Like Madmen
by Dawn-Of-Indescribable-Colors
Summary: Malfoy's got only one way to stop the pain-and that's with more of it. In his 7th year at Hogwarts, he orchestrates a sort of fight club, for the male Death Eaters in Slytherin whose arms won't stop burning. Little does he know that one girl will work her way into the seams, and not only fight like a man, but beat his heart black and blue. Some pain, however, is pleasure...RATED M!
1. Prologue

**Okay, PLEASE DON'T FREAK OUT! I'm not giving up on any of the other fics, I just REALLY want to write this one-and have for a long while. The OC in this story is NOT Molly from Broken Open, and Draco's a lot different too. If you don't like sex or violence-hell, I don't think you'd be here in the first place, because of the fics I write, but regardless, if you don't like it-SHOO! This story has had a lot of inspiration from Fight Club, and no, it's not a ONE-SHOT. I hope you guys take a liking to it. BY THE WAY, THE ATTACK ON DUMBLEDORE AND ON HOGWARTS IN THE SIXTH AND SEVENTH BOOKS DID NOT HAPPEN IN THIS FIC! THE DEATH EATERS HAVE YET TO START THE WAR! So, here we go. Listen to:**

**Wonder What's Next - Chevelle  
**

**Enjoy :)  
**

**_Prologue_  
**

Anger...is an interesting thing.

It can push you to hurt-to maim and kill, almost blindly. I have seen some of the most abominable things carried out in the face of rage. It can push you to injure yourself...to come unhinged from the inside.

I have experience with that sort of anger.

There is another kind, however, that I remember more clearly. The kind that changed the course of my life. The kind that beats and bludgeons and destroys...but only for one thing.

Only for release.

I remember, almost like it were yesterday, the year of my life I devoted to this side of anger. The year I came of age.

Eighteen.

For most, this is simply the year a boy becomes known as a man. He is ready to face the world and all its schemes, or so some say.

But in my family, it is something else entirely.

It is the year that the boy takes the Mark. Only when the skin of the forearm is as dark as the Forbidden Forest, with a tattoo that whispers and moves, is a Malfoy boy_ ever _considered a man.

I remember the way my father sat me down, explaining that we had some very special guests this day. (_This day_ being my birthday.) He had proceeded to try and explain what was going to happen to me with as little clarify as possible, and I'm fairly certain I said something along the lines of: Stop bullshitting and tell me what the hell's going on.

So he'd told me, plain and simple.

"The Dark Lord has chosen you, my son. You are to become a real man, today."

I look back now on the fool that I was, and I am ashamed to say that a broad smile had graced my features. Father couldn't have been more proud, the way I was taking it. He may as well have just purchased Honeydukes for me at my disposal.

Christ, it was _so fucking painful-_like being ripped apart at all angles. The Cruciatus Curse felt like roses and rainbows in comparison, and I knew that because...well, because that was how I was punished as a child.

I couldn't scream, though. Couldn't roar in agony and keel over-couldn't shrivel up like the dead weed I felt like.

That would dishonor my family.

No, I had to bear it with gritted teeth and tense muscles, looking the Dark Lord straight in the eyes as Greyback held me down.

And then it was over and done with...and I had a lovely new part of my body that, for the life of me, wouldn't stop fucking prickling.

But I was a man, and that was all that mattered.

I was shipped off to Hogwarts for my final year, forced to wear long sleeves to no end, and deal with my ridiculous crowd of so-called friends, when really, I felt so superior to them...to all of this..._school stuff._

Blaise showed me his Mark a week later...and then Crabbe and Goyle, (how those goons were chosen, I'll never know). I caught Greengrass itching, and let's face it-Nott wouldn't be Nott if he hadn't voiced the Dark Lord's affections for him to the whole of Slytherin House.

Slowly and painfully, my sense of superiority died-and it was just another year at Hogwarts, taunting Mudbloods and taking every opportunity to slight Potter and his little weasel. Fucking Golden Trio...

It was November, if I'm correct, that everything started turning upside down-and I'll admit it wasn't really _my idea_ in the first place. Well...maybe it was, but I certainly hadn't thought of it on a whim.

Zabini's Mark and my own had been shooting pains into our arms for about a week when I finally found him tearing apart the second floor boys' lavatory. He was beating the sinks to shards, and not with a wand, but with his fists.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE!" He howled, launching a faucet at the far wall.

"Calm the fuck down, mate," I said, leaning casually against a stall and raising a brow at him.

"If this is His idea of inspiring loyalty, He's doing a _right fucking job of it!" _He'd paused only to look me in the eye before tearing down a mirror and breaking it over his knee.

"I'm not cleaning this up," I warned him. "Get a grip. We're all going through it. Do you see me smashing urinals?"

"Oh, fuck you, Malfoy-it's in your eyes. I'm just the only one with half a nerve to rebel!"

"Is _that _what your doing?" I smirked at him. "Right, mate. Thanks for clearing that up for me."

"All I fucking want is _release!" _he bellowed, exploding one last piece of porcelain before collapsing against a broken sink. "It hurts like Hell, Draco. You know it and so do I."

"Feel any better now?" I gestured to the mess, sarcasm oozing from every word.

But there was a strange expression on his face, and he straightened up, brow furrowed, "Actually...yes. Loads."

I snorted, "You've got to be kidding me."

"No, I'm serious. I feel-fuck, _Malfoy!" _he gasped, wide-eyed.

"What? _Dammit, what is it?"_

"My arm. It doesn't hurt. I can't feel a thing."

The look in his eyes got weirder...and I had the sudden urge to take a step back, "How much Firewhiskey have you had?"

"Malfoy-_listen to me! _The pain is gone!"

"My arm is still burning, fuckwit. You're just delusional. Go to bed-get your head straight." I rolled my eyes, turning to leave.

What happened next I can't quite describe in words-only that he grabbed my shoulder, spun me round and pummeled his fist into my gut-yet that same look of bewilderment remained on his face.

But, the feeling-the inexplicable pleasure I got from it...I'll never be able to tell you. And when I hit him back...oh, hell-it was like ecstasy.

Salazar knew why, but the pain distracted from our arms in such a way that we preferred it. That we _liked _it.

I don't know how long we stayed in that bathroom, beating each other senseless-I just know that once it was over, we had the same expressions on our faces. After fighting like madmen, we felt only two things:

Relief...

...and the craving for more.


	2. No Underdogs

**Alright, I've decided I really love this story, and I'm only a chapter in! Who cares? I hope you guys like it as much as I do :) Listen to:**

**All My Life - Foo Fighters (I REALLY MUST INSIST ON THIS ONE! PLEAAAASSSE LISTEN!)  
**

**Enjoy :)  
**

**_Chapter One_  
**

**_No Underdogs  
_**

Yeah-fuck, I suppose it _was_ my idea...

That's not to say Zabini and Nott didn't go right along with it. Frankly, they loved it. They were the ones pressing me to get it started.

Which was how we got here, on a cold Friday night, on the first floor, in Myrtle's bathroom, surrounded by forty of Slytherin's sixth and seventh year boys.

Rephrase: Men.

Now, they were men.

Zabini nudged me, nodding his head at the crowd, and with a grudging sigh, I stepped forth, clearing my throat.

"Yeah, so...you all got the message. Blaise and I have...worked something out-"

"How is that even physically possible?" someone in the back interrupted. "That more pain sates the pain?"

"We're not entirely sure," I shrugged. "Suffice to say the Dark Lord wants us to be violent. It's like a reward, I suppose."

"What's this all about then? Riot Row, as you call it?" another boy asked.

"Yeah-is it like that fucking D.A.? Dumbledore's Army, or whatever the hell it was?"

"Absolutely not," I shot back. "That's fucking stupid, Harper. Shut up." Mentally, I rolled my eyes.

_Sixth years..._

"This is not some sentimental little girl's dueling club! Am I clear?"

There were some grumbles.

Crabbe raised his hand like an idiot, but actually managed to form a halfway decent question, "How-how are we going to keep it a secret?"

I scoffed, "Right-because_ everyone _comes in here."

Some of the boys shifted uneasily.

"Well, fuck, if you're _that_ paranoid, we'll cast some wards, alright?"

More grumbles. In case you didn't already know, we Slytherins aren't very sociable. In fact, we're probably the least pleasant grouping in Scotland.

"How long do we fight?" Nott piped up, even though he knew the answer, I assumed to keep things moving.

A smirk crept onto my face, "Til sunrise. That is, if you can bear it."

There was a stunned silence, and I wondered just how intimidated they were. I guess we'd see in a moment.

"Yeah, alright. Blaise and I'll demonstrate," I yanked off my sweater vest, leaving my dark green dress shirt to keep me cool. Tossing away my wand, I cast Zabini an expectant look and rolled my shoulders.

"Wait!" someone else called. "No wands?"

"No wands," I repeated, cracking my knuckles. Blaise did the same with his neck, flexing his bruised hand from last week.

"Best back up," Blaise said, grinning. Instantly they gave us about ten meters more space than we needed.

"Come on then, brother..." I laughed tauntingly as we began to pace a slow circle, hands clenched into fists and held in boxing position. "Take your best shot."

He darted forward, swung his fist, and just for show, I didn't dodge. It cracked against my cheek with a searing pain that was both relief and agony.

Some of the boys gasped.

I steadied myself, smiling with bloodied teeth, and moved to him with a sharp uppercut that split his lip. Zabini responded with a right hook.

"Nott," I called, still grinning, "call them like you see them." Then I jammed my elbow into Blaise's gut, spun around, and without giving him a chance to breathe, clocked him in the jaw with it.

Blood splattered from his mouth, and I heard Theo laugh, "Did you just purposely foul, Malfoy?"

"Maybe..." I said, then lifted my leg to kick Zabini in the chest. "Maybe not."

He tackled me, ramming us hard onto the tile floor, and then his hand was on my face, pressing so hard it was both breaking my nose and suffocating me.

"Foul!" Nott shouted, and Blaise released me.

With one final blow to his smug face, I got to my feet, "I think they get the idea." I shook out my fist and wiped the blood from my nose, watching Zabini catch his breath, hands on his knees.

"Any questions?" I panted, picking up my wand to staunch the now steady bleeding.

"What are the rules..." Harper asked, presumably trying to redeem himself. _"Specifically?"_

"When you knock out your opponent, you're done. Don't beat on them, or one of us'll zap you."

"Zap?"

"Nott, Zabini and I designed the game. One of us at least will be on the sidelines for every fight. We'll call fouls throughout, and when we do, you have to stop-not altogether, but stop what you're doing at the moment. If you persist, we'll electrocute you." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I didn't know we could do that," someone mused.

"New spell we invented. Safe...but powerful," Nott explained.

"What constitutes a foul?"

"Brutal combat," Nott continued. "What Malfoy did to Zabini there with his elbow was allowed, until he swung it at his face. Your opponent gets breathers. Same goes for trying to break his nose, Blaise."

Zabini snickered and I thwacked him upside the head.

"By the way," I said, "no weapons or brass knuckles-and absolutely no wands, if that wasn't already clear."

"When do we start?" It was a voice from the back-one I didn't recognize-and the tone was odd.

But I grinned widely, "That settles it, then. We start tomorrow night, right here. Fight dates are negotiable, but typically Friday, Saturday, Monday and Tuesday. One could, however, hint they could use some R & R, which is our code to fight that night." And I laughed at my own cleverness.

"R & R?" Nott furrowed his brow.

"Rest and Relaxation, is the proper term, but it could mean Riot Row, as well. Only use the initials in public. I don't want to have to start casting Unbreakable Vows."

"Why's it called that, by the way?" Blaise asked.

"Riot Row? It was a Death Eater movement my grandfather Abraxas started a long time ago-it seemed fitting."

There were some laughs.

"Right...is anyone backing out?"

To my surprise, no one left the room.

"What about Myrtle?" that same odd voice asked, and I shifted to try and see the bloke, but he moved behind someone else.

"I had a chat with Myrtle. She won't talk-as long as she gets to watch," Blaise said.

"I believe her exact explanation was 'as long as I get to see you boys shirtless."' I added.

More laughs.

"Anything else?"

And at last, the room was silent.

"Good. Meet here tomorrow at eleven and we'll pick our first fighters."

The room started to clear out, but one boy brushed past me with a final question, "How do we do that? Pick who fights?"

I smirked, "You'll see."

Nott, Zabini and I trailed out behind the group, inwardly evaluating them. No one seemed like an underdog-and that was good thing, because I hated mercy rules.

But there was one body I noticed, with an odd shape for a male. The hips seemed to curve inward more than normal, and his shoulders were thin and slight.

Alright..._one_ underdog, then.


	3. Riot Roulette

**Okay...so a few people are liking this. That's enough for me to continue for now! :) Listen to:**

**Polyamorous - Breaking Benjamin  
**

**Enjoy :)  
**

**_Chapter Two_  
**

**_Riot Roulette  
_**

The Slytherin common room was thick with apprehension.

But I guess the apprehension was all testosterone, right? The girls were walking around, swinging their hips as per usual without a care in the world. The rest of us were sort of spread out, sitting or standing, but all with the same rigid posture.

And then there was Jamie.

We used to make jokes that Jamie Cutler was unisex, because-well, for one thing, her name was, but mostly because she _didn't _swing her hips like the rest of them. She wasn't boyish, mind you, but she certainly didn't giggle and swoon.

At the present moment, she'd taken up the black, leather chair by the fireplace, legs swung carelessly over the arm and dangling in a most unladylike fashion. She wasn't reading, as you might've expected her to be.

Jamie wasn't bookish, either.

No, she was just sitting there, twirling her wand in hand and casting the occasional, bored Stinging Jinx at the ceiling.

I tried not to stare at her from my corner of the room, but it was hard not to notice how her dirty blonde hair spilled over the other chair arm, untouched by magic, but naturally curling at the ends. It was just begging to have fingers run through it.

_My_ fingers...

_Don't be stupid, Draco._

I forced my eyes to move to her legs instead, and that was a terrible idea. Yeah, maybe it was difficult for a guy to get his kicks from looking at her, because she was so covered up by those loose, dark jeans and sweatshirts she always wore-but it wasn't hard to tell she had killer legs.

I shook my head at myself, trying to move my eyes away entirely, but managing only to shift them to her face. I would _not, _most definitely _not_ look at her chest...

...which was perfectly proportioned to the rest of her, rising and falling almost hypnotically and teasing the living daylights out of anything within ten meters that had a Y-chromosome or a-

_Shut up, man! SHUT UP!_

Fuck! Her face-I'm trying to talk about her face.

She had a delicate jawline, but not a round one, like Pansy. It was taut, the skin smooth and pale, with the occasional splotch of red, not when she was embarrassed, but when she was excited.

I'd noticed as much over my years sharing her House.

Her nose turned up a little bit-I liked that, and her _eyes. _Oh, man-you could heat the devil with those eyes. A dark, warm sort of blue that struck you when they turned their gaze, deep and mysterious and wild and-

Double fuck! She was staring at me...staring at her.

I quickly downed my drink, feeling the Firewhiskey burn my throat like lava, and turned not just my eyes, but my entire body away.

_Fine. _

She was pretty.

Oh, to hell with that-I'm a Malfoy. I don't bullshit.

Jamie was beautiful...in a somehow strange and guarded way. It didn't take more than one look to know she was untouchable. Boys didn't go near her, for fear she'd hex their dicks off.

But I firmly believe we all had our secret fantasies...

I know I did.

I still do.

With another shake of my head, I moved to Theo's side, catching the tail end of a conversation about brooms for Quidditch. A shame. That was a conversation I would've excelled at.

It was ten-thirty...and we were getting restless.

The bitches just wouldn't go to bed!

Now, don't get the wrong idea. I do my best to be respectful to women-well, Slytherin women, anyway. What people fail to realize is that men in this House are very protective of their womenfolk.

We don't share them.

We don't hurt them.

And we _never_ lose them.

Yet, Gryffindors still don't understand how we can keep having one night stands without massive fights occurring in the hallways.

They'll learn someday-or maybe not.

I hoped for the latter.

Pansy finally took her gaggle of simpering girls back to their dormitory, leaving only us and Jamie...

But when I looked back to where she'd been sitting, I found her gone.

At the time, I'd shrugged it off-but now I realize I should've been much more suspicious as to how she'd cleared out so fast.

I cleared my throat, "Illusion charms, gentlemen. Filch is out there." And with a flick of my wand, I fell into shadow, exiting the dungeons without another word.

I knew they were following me.

All of them.

It was rather impressive how large a group we'd managed to round up in a matter of days. Good thing, too. My Mark was positively _screaming, _and I scratched it violently through my suit jacket.

The cold of the dungeons helped to calm our nerves-yes, for even _I_ was a tad anxious about the whole thing. I'd only yet fought with Blaise, and who knew if he hit gently compared to the others?

Striding confidently as I could into Myrtle's bathroom, I immediately revealed myself and then turned to cast some Wards.

One by one, the boys started to appear, all with that same nervous look in their eyes. Even Theo looked apprehensive, and he was stronger than most.

When they eventually gathered around me, looking expectant, I swirled my wand in a careful circle, pointing it at the floor.

A wheel, similar to a Roulette board, materialized, with thin slats dividing it into about fifty pieces. I took the initiative and placed my wand in the first slot, then stepped back.

Nott and Zabini were next, and slowly people started to catch on. It took roughly ten minutes, but eventually a wand filled every place.

"What is this?" Goyle asked.

"_This..."_ and I reached forward to wrap my hand around the center knob, "is how we choose opponents."

Many brows furrowed in confusion, but I just gave knob a twist and watched the wheel spin to life. It didn't spin like a normal wheel, either.

It spun much faster, like one of those rides at Muggle theme parks, until it blurred and started to look something like an umbrella.

Then two bright sparks shot up, startling several, and with them flew two wands.

The wheel stopped spinning and the wands levitated, facing one another.

"First combatant: Kyle Sumpter," a female, robotic voice announced, and the tip of one wand glowed blue. There were gasps, and finally Kyle stepped through the crowd, staring up at his wand and swallowing thickly.

He had a stocky build, though, and I concluded he'd do fine.

"Second combatant: Gregory Verne."

He seemed excited when he came to the front, shaking out his fists in preparation. They were about equal in size.

This would be a good match.

The wand tips stopped glowing, and then the wands themselves seemed to turn to dust, dissolving in the air.

"What the hell?" Kyle demanded. "Where'd my wand go!?"

"Calm down, Sumpter. The game is holding them for you, until after the fight. This way no one cheats," Theo said.

The rest of the wands remained on the wheel, and as soon as I collected mine, the others followed suit.

When the wheel was bare, it too disappeared.

"How does that thing work?" Verne asked, loosening his tie.

"It combines what it believes to be an even fight-and from your proportions, I can see it's working." I told him, gesturing for the rest of us to move back. "Give them room."

We formed a wide circle around the two fighters, who were currently sizing each other up, assessing the competition.

"Remember the rules," Nott warned. "No brutal combat, or we'll hex you."

"Thought you called fouls first," Kyle blinked.

"We're just trying to prepare you," I said. "You only get warned once."

"Are you both ready?" Blaise asked. The two nodded simultaneously.

"Go, then," and I smirked at them.

From the first punch, I already knew who would win.

True, Gregory looked more confident-but Sumpter hit like a battering ram.


	4. You & Davis

**Kind of a slow, but necessary chapter. Don't skip it! Listen to:**

**Walking in Circles - Dead By Sunrise  
**

**Enjoy :)  
**

**_Chapter Three_  
**

**_You & Davis  
_**

With a final cough of bright scarlet, Garber went down, slamming onto the tile and going limp. Davis grinned, stretching his arms out wide as the boys he was close friends with hollered appreciatively.

Not to say that Garber didn't get a piece of him. Mark's right eye was bleeding good and steady-and I had total faith in the roulette board by now.

The sun was just rising through the windows, making the scarlet splotches on the floor sparkle. This had been the sixth and final fight of the evening.

And I'd yet to get a complaint.

Every combatant-even the ones just gaining consciousness-rushed to tell me that their Marks had stopped hurting. Their eyes were aglow with excitement and adrenaline, seemingly oblivious to the gashes and fractures all over their bodies.

Theo and I had yet to fight, but Blaise had been selected twice-which, though we wouldn't admit, had made us darkly envious.

"Combatants-come see me," I called as the weary onlookers began to clear out, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

The nine Slytherins came to stand before me, and I handed Davis back his wand. Garber was still unconscious on the floor some ten feet away. I'd have to see to him separately.

Flicking my wand, I watched tiredly as their wounds began to heal, closing up in seconds.

"Wash that blood off and get back as soon as you can. It's almost seven. The girls'll be up soon." I said. "Oh, and try not to look sore."

That was the only problem with healing spells. They fixed wounds, but the pain remained for a day or two.

I could only imagine how Blaise would feel in an hour.

Nodding, they walked-or rather, limped-out of the bathroom, and I sighed, heading toward Garber's still form.

One of Myrtle's loud giggles echoed off the walls, and she perched happily on the edge of a stall, "Well, Draco-I must admit that was even better than I'd hoped."

"Glad we could entertain you," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I passed my wand over the lacerations on Hayden's face. He was a sixth year, and Davis was ferocious. I couldn't blame him for getting his ass kicked.

"Oh, let me tend to him, Draco..." Myrtle purred. "He's so very sweaty."

I made a disgusted sound and gave her a weird look, "I said you could watch-but if you interfere, I'll send Peeves after you."

All she did was stick her tongue out at me, "Draco, you're no fun. You mustn't forget I died a teenage girl. My hormones are still..." and her hands ghosted _(literally) _over my shoulders, _"raging."_

"God-get _off _me, woman!" I shouted, yanking out of her cold, airy grip. "Go flirt with the Bloody Baron, or something."

She scoffed, turning her nose up at me and then crashing down through the floor.

Truthfully, I felt rather bad, sicking her on our House Ghost like that, but what could I do? It was already seven o'clock, and I had a boy out cold at my feet and a wanna-be girlfriend probably already worried sick.

I didn't have time for Moaning Myrtle.

"Come on, Garber," I sighed. "He didn't hit you _that _hard."

Okay, maybe he had, but perhaps I could downgrade his ego enough to wake him up.

Fat chance.

Garber didn't move a muscle, and I ended up having to levitate him with my wand. Filch may not have been prowling at this hour for "students out of bed," but students levitating other unconscious, bloody students...maybe.

So I had to cast another, much larger illusion charm around the two of us, and walk as slowly as possible back to the dungeons, whispering the password and moving into the wall.

The common room wasn't very crowded, but there were a few girls up and about, which killed my plan of revealing myself right then and there.

Pansy was one of those girls.

And so was Jamie, surprisingly.

Not that I'd been watching very closely, but Jamie always seemed to get up around noon on weekends, which was later than any other girl slept.

I only know because I tended to bump into her in the mornings, on our way out of the dormitory foyer.

I was very careful to keep my steps quiet, tiptoeing through the common room past the fire and trying not to get Garber's body very close to anyone.

The men in the room seemed nervous, searching as discreetly as possible, no doubt looking for me.

They probably wondered whether I'd been caught by Filch...whether the gig was up.

I'd finally reached the tunnel to the dormitory foyer, and was about to breathe a sigh of relief, when Jamie got a little too close for comfort.

She was just leaning casually against the wall, reading the Daily Prophet, but there was something in the way her eyes kept flicking to the side.

I froze in place, silently praying that no one would choose now to get out of bed and come up to the common room. Garber's head was already halfway into the tunnel.

I heard a voice approaching behind me, "Pansy, where are you going?"

"I'm just going to see if Draco's awake."

Her voice was _very close. _Only a few feet behind me-and I winced, closing my eyes and preparing for the tumble down the stairs when she ran into me.

Garber would not be grateful.

Fuck, any second now...

"Hey, Pansy," Jamie said, looking up once more from her paper.

"Ugh-what do _you _want?" Pansy stopped in her tracks to put her hands on her hips, glowering.

I held my breath.

"I was just wondering how long that was going on." Jamie shrugged.

"What?" I could sense Pansy's brow furrowing in confusion. I only wish I didn't know her so well. "What's going on?"

"You and Davis." And I saw Jamie nod her head in the opposite direction. "He's staring at your arse."

Pansy whirled around to see-I watched her shadow move-and then Jamie's elbow swung out to jab me in the side.

I held in my gasp, head shooting up, and was startled to find her eyes trained on me. _Right_ on me.

But how could she possibly-

"Go now, you dolt!" she whispered harshly. "What are you waiting for?"


	5. Who's Being Confronted Again?

**Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait on this one. I've been really preoccupied with Frosted lately, and I just recently got back into Broken Open, so...anyway. I'm working on a trailer for this baby, which should be up on Youtube soon. Listen to:**

**Remember To Feel Real - Armor For Sleep (Great song.)**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Who's Being Confronted Again?**_

I spent the good part of that morning trying to think up ways to confront her when I finally got up.

I had a hell of a lot of questions.

For starters, how the fuck could she see through the illusion charm? I knew my talents and I knew my limits. Casting that charm was certainly one of the former. It was impossible that there were any holes.

She must've had some sort of gift...and I didn't like things happening in Slytherin House without my knowing. She'd have to explain it to me.

But I also wondered whether she knew what we gents were hiding. She seemed awfully..._omniscient_ about the whole thing.

Damn. What to do?

I rolled my eyes at myself, flipping over in bed with a grunt and trying to force myself to fall asleep. It was still early. Blaise stirred on my left, reminding me of the peace of mind he probably had.

Two fights. _Two. _His arm was probably numb, the lucky bastard.

Mine, though...mine was another story. Burning and itching and tormenting me. I thought for sure a rash would start to grow up over my shoulder.

Clamping a hand on it, I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed all thoughts of scars and Jamie Cutler from my head. At least, for the rest of the morning.

When I woke up, it was late afternoon, and they were refreshed in me with a vengeance, pounding at the back of my skull.

I had to clear this up. It was my duty as one of the leaders of this organization.

And duty, in my life, was everything.

So I rolled out of bed, rubbing my eyes and throwing on a shirt. I took a moment to thank Salazar it was Sunday. It would help me to keep up my casual air-my confidence-if I was wearing something comfortable.

And god knew one had to be comfortable when talking to Jamie.

She had a way of..._doing things_ to a man.

Trudging up the steps and out of the dormitory foyer, I found the common room completely deserted. Everyone had probably gone down to lunch. And a small toll of relief sounded in my gut.

Collapsing on one of the leather sofas, I leaned my head back on my hands and shut my eyes, contemplating.

Before I knew it, I was talking to myself. Practicing, of all things-like a moron.

"Yes, hello Jamie. Might I pose a question? How the_ fuck_ did you-no. No, no, no. Too harsh. More like, hi Jamie-why the fuck am I greeting her? Top of the morning to you, damned idiot. No. I'm being straightforward. Jamie-do you...by any chance, see...dead people?"

And just as I was about to throw up my hands and call the whole damn thing off, a cool voice resonated from behind me.

"No...actually, not."

And there was laughter in it.

I shot up like a clap of thunder, whirling around to face her. She had a smug half-grin on her face, arms crossed over her "accidentally" exposed chest.

_Eyes up, Malfoy, _I had to remind myself.

But ti didn't really help that she was in her bedclothes. Loose sweats hugging her hips, midriff slightly visible, tight tank top just barely containing her-

"Go on, ask me," she said, smile widening as she took a seat on the arm of the couch.

"You should be at lunch," I remarked. It was a defense mechanism. Make them feel as uncomfortable as you are.

Lesson number 4, I believe, learned from my father.

"I'm fairly certain that wasn't what you were planning to say." Jamie cocked a brow at me.

A dark scowl colored my face. "How do you know I was talking about _you?" _I snapped.

The brow inched higher on her forehead, more with amusement than anything else, "Oh? It must've been Jamie Dunn, then. My mistake. I mean, who wouldn't want to talk to the great bespectacled oaf-"

Glaring at her with all the strength I possessed, I ground out, "How did you see me? _Last night?" _

Her expression softened, with satisfaction, I believed.

Then she shrugged.

Just shrugged.

"You can't be serious." My hands clenched into fists. Jesus, I really needed to fight soon or I was going to lose my grip over a_ girl. _

Over Jamie Cutler, no less.

She sighed, "I didn't actually _see_ you, Malfoy. Your cologne is very..._potent." _

And just like that, my anger pinwheeled into surprise.

"I don't wear cologne."

Fuck-could her brow possibly arc any _higher?_

"Really?"

"Really," I said, doing my best to sound bored. She stepped closer to me suddenly, and I was all too focused on her pierced navel to expect what she did next.

She grabbed me by the collar of my t-shirt and drew me close, nuzzling her face into my neck and inhaling deeply.

I gasped.

I gasped because she was too fucking close-and I didn't like the feeling it was giving me.

Like it _meant_ something.

All too soon, and yet somehow not soon enough, she pulled away, and again she had the nerve to shrug those graceful shoulders.

"Must be a natural thing, then. Best keep an eye on that secret society..." She took advantage of my shock to pat my chest and brush past me, calling behind her, "Someone might catch you."

I blinked-good and hard just to make sure I still had control over myself.

The little bitch was acting like she had some sort of power over me.

Worse yet, I suppose, was tha_t I _was the one giving it to her. But it's like I said before.

She does things to men.


	6. Maybe the Bloke's Got a Plan

**Damn-sorry it's been so long. Once I finish the epilogue for Broken Open I can spend more time on this one, though. No worries :) Thank you all for being such wonderful, patient fans. Listen to:**

**Enemies - Shinedown (Epic song!)**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Five**_

_**Maybe the Bloke's Got a Plan**_

Monday night couldn't come soon enough.

It felt as if my arm was being dunked repeatedly into a pale of acid, and then left to dry in the sweltering sun. But all the blisters were beneath my skin. That was perhaps the most infuriating.

If I didn't get to fight tonight, I was certain I'd just off myself and be done with it.

"Evening, gentlemen..." I muttered, striding past them into the bathroom and setting up the usual Wards. Their responses were mumbled, and I could instantly tell that the majority of them were as miserable as I was.

"Let's get right to it, then," Blaise said, clapping his hands together in an unbearably cheerful fashion.

"Wands down," I commanded, conjuring the roulette board.

Two levitated a moment later, aimed at each other, and that strange, female voice droned, "First combatant: Cole McFerson. Second combatant: James Colter."

I was too furious about having to wait any longer to realize that I didn't recognize the second boy's name. Cole stepped forward, beaming, and watched his wand disappear as he began to loosen his tie. The second one-James-moved in as well, and I instantly remembered him as the slight figure I'd seen after the meeting.

He was the underdog.

Shit. And I was just beginning to trust the board...

Cole looked much too large to be an even match for him. I glanced warily at Nott and Zabini, who mimicked my expression of panic but said nothing.

_No mercy rules,_ I reminded myself. _Let it go._

The smaller boy had an odd look about his face. It was pale and almost unnaturally without flaw. His cheekbones seemed offset, though, and his dusty blonde hair hung too low on his brow. I was surprised he could see at all.

"Are you ready?" Theo asked, after clearing his throat rather awkwardly, and both competitors nodded.

"Fists up. Fight!"

Predictably, Cole achieved the first blow, and Colter's face swung to the side with a spurt of scarlet blood. I grimaced.

The board had definitely gotten something wrong.

To his own credit, James straightened up fast, but Cole knocked him back again in the blink of an eye. Squinting as the blood flew, I moved discreetly toward Theo.

Cole lifted his foot just as James raised his head and kicked him in the teeth.

"Should we stop this?" I whispered out the corner of my mouth.

Reeling into one of the other boys, James grabbed the wall to steady himself, wiping his mouth and panting. McFerson was laughing.

Nott studied it a moment longer, then turned to me, "I don't know. It doesn't look like Colter's even trying. Give him another minute. Maybe the bloke's got something planned."

Biting my lip, I crossed my arms and watched in agitation. Cole was kicking his arse to high heaven.

James bent over, hands on his knees, spitting up the blood and saliva. I was certain the next blow would be the one to knock him unconscious.

No. I was wrong.

Cole's uppercut knocked the boy off his feet, but he got right back up. _Christ.._.talk about stamina. Hunched over, James paced in a circle with his opponent, looked to be on his last legs.

But then I saw his eyes...

_Strange._

If anything about him seemed calm, it was his gaze. Calm and...calculating.

Brow furrowing, I watched him carefully as they circled. He absorbed Cole's next shot almost like he didn't feel it-a harsh jab to his left shoulder. But his eyes flicked around wildly as the hit came and went, evaluating it.

_He does have a plan, _I realized suddenly.

Cole was wearing out.

The next couple blows packed hardly any punch, and James just shook them off. McFerson panted heavily, chest heaving, staring at his opponent with confused eyes.

And it dawned on me about a millisecond before it happened...

Cole got to suck in one more enormous breath before James moved.

Quicker than a hex, Colter shot forward, slammed the heel of his palm into Cole's nose, broke it, flipped him around and threw into the tile wall.

Within the span of three seconds, Cole McFerson was unconscious.

"Jesus Christ..." The words slipped right out of my mouth, salted with astonishment and disbelief.

There was a distinct pause in the room in which nothing else was said. James straightened up, flexing his fists and wiping his lip again. Then he turned to stare right at me, and there was something about his gaze that unnerved me.

Like I _knew_ it...

"What year are you?" I asked, still slightly dazed.

He quirked a bruised brow at me, "Does it matter?"

My eyes tightened. Oh, so he thought he was superior now? That wasn't how it worked.

"What're you waiting for, Colter? A medal, or something?" I drawled, Theo and Blaise coming up to stand behind me. I imagine we looked pretty threatening.

But James had the gall to smirk before he strode back into the circle to make room for the next fight. A steady hate was building in my gut toward him...and it'd only been a couple minutes.

Somebody dragged McFerson out of the way and into the "knockout corner," as we called it.

"Wands back on the board," I commanded, and the circle converged as Colter and McFerson's wands reappeared. We lined them up beside each other and the board began to spin again.

My knuckles were white by now.

I _had_ to fight. I had to...or I'd just start brawling. And that was against the rules.

Two wands burst into the air and I sucked in a breath, my whole body going stiff.

_Please..._

"First combatant: Theodore Nott. Second combatant-"

_PLEASE._

"Draco Malfoy."

A whoosh of air left me as relief filled my veins. _Finally_...finally I'd get to release some of this tension.

The onlookers passed around stunned and cautious glances, staring between the two of us. Of course they knew we were best friends...

I looked sideways at Theo and found him grinning from ear to ear.

This would be interesting...


	7. Goddamn Honor

**I love it when I get a PM that asks me when all the "sexing" is going to start...hahahaha! Thank you, my dear reader, for making my day :) I promise...soon. XD Listen to:**

**Later That Year - Straylight Run (I LOVE this song!)**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Six**_

_**Goddamn Honor**_

I squirmed with discomfort, every now and again uttering a growl of pain. She was doing it all wrong. Every pulse of her fingers caused a throb to start in my already aching shoulders. Maybe it was worse that she thought she was good at it...

"There, there, Draco...you feel better, don't you?" she cooed into my ear, far too close for my liking.

"Er...yeah, sure Pansy. Just-uh-"

"You'll give him a muscle spasm, the way you're going at it. _Move." _

It was that voice. _Her_ voice. Goddammit, this was the last thing I needed. I couldn't even feel my ribs. But all I could manage in protest was a small grunt.

I'd rather suffer the likes of Pansy than allow my mind to turn to static...like it always did when Jamie was near me.

Pansy's weight was shoved out of the way from behind me, and Jamie's thin, curvy body replaced hers on the arm rest. Slowly-_-too damn slowly-_her fingers slipped over my sore shoulders, relaxing into the edges of my collarbone.

I stiffened.

"Well, no wonder you're tense," she chastised. "Loosen up, Malfoy. It's a massage, not a flogging."

Pansy gave an angry whine from the corner of the common room. She would probably pout about this for the rest of the evening.

Jamie's hands started to move, rolling over my skin like waves. Almost immediately, an involuntary groan tumbled from my lips.

I didn't have to look. I knew she was smiling that damnably beautiful, smug smile. Her fingers kneaded with a little more strength, seeming to find all the knots and ridges in my muscles instantly, setting to work straightening them out.

I tried to shut my eyes and focus on what happened, rather than her ministrations.

The whole fight was sort of a blur. Fists flying this way and that. Theo and I didn't fight the way I fought with Blaise. Theo and I fought like brothers...which was so much more violent. We were in tune with one another, almost to the point of predicting the other's movements.

This is not to say I didn't like it. Oh, no it suited me fine. The pain in my arm was all but a distant memory at the moment.

I was only sore...

Which led to Jamie...

Which led to-

"The word is Theo beat the shit out of you," Jamie murmured next to my ear. It wasn't invasive, the way Pansy did it, but rather in a way that made me shiver. Made me want to bring her closer...

I pulled myself together, managing a scoff, "Have you seen Nott lately? Because I can assure you that at least half of his face is black and blue."

Jamie made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "Ah, you Slytherin men..." and her hands slid back across my shoulders, up the nape of my neck and into my hair, kneading so deliciously that I wanted to moan in pleasure, "so prideful..."

"All we have is our-our pride-," I breathed, my voice faltering when she lathered her fingers all the way up to the roots, then dragged them back out again.

"Indeed."

And then she was gone, sauntering across the common room and leaving me in quite a state.

And I realized...I hadn't even questioned how she knew about Theo. About the fight. About any of it...

_Shit. _

The Glamour Theo had tried to cast over his face hadn't taken...and we'd made it out that he'd had a very unfortunate encounter with one of the heavy classroom doors in the dungeons.

Maybe that was how she knew. There was no "word." We were sworn to secrecy. No one would've told her.

All that aside, it didn't matter.

Somehow...one way or another...she _knew. _I'd suspected she did before, but now it was obvious that she knew not only that we were doing something, but what that something _was. _

I threw myself out of the leather chair, feeling her hands everywhere on my upper body, as if they were still there...tingling. Charging toward the exit, I tore Blaise away from the cute blonde fifth year he was talking to and dragged him outside.

"What the hell?" he snapped when we reached the dungeon hallway. "I was making progress!"

"Were you? I hadn't noticed."

He gave an angry sigh, leaning back against the stone wall. "What do you want?"

I glanced over my shoulder, finding the hallway deserted, then turned back and crossed my arms. "Jamie knows."

His dark brow furrowed, "What do you mean 'Jamie knows?' Jamie knows what?"

"She knows what happened to Nott's face."

It took a moment to sink in, I could tell. Then his eyes widened and he gaped at me, _"What?" _

"You heard me. I don't know how...but she knows."

Blaise laced his fingers behind his head, starting to pace a nervous circle. "Jesus Christ..." His hands fell to his sides with a loud slap. "Well that's great. Just_ great. _What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing," I said instantly. "We can't do anything about it. I just thought I should let you know."

"We could-"

"_No,"_ I ground out, seeing the look in his eyes. "We won't hurt Jamie."

"It might be the only-"

"I said _no_, Blaise! No one touches Cutler. Is that understood?"

His eyes tightened as he stared at me. "What is this? The fucking Mafia? You don't control me!"

I stepped close to him, asserting my power with my height alone. "You haven't seen me try."

After a tense pause, he backed away with a huff. "Why do you care so much?"

"She's a woman," I said immediately, moving toward him again. "A _Slytherin _woman. And _we respect women." _I jabbed a finger to his chest with every word. "Where's your goddamn honor?"

"Right here, asshole." He grabbed his crotch.

The door to the common room opened with a burst of sound and Theo came out, face as bruised as I'd described it. A good thing, too.

Because I'd been about ten seconds away from beating the shit out of Blaise.

And I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Wass goin' on..." he slurred. He'd been drinking.

Before Blaise could even open his mouth, I rushed out, "We need to be more careful. People are starting to suspect our...guilty pleasure..."


	8. With the Glamours Gone

**Yay! Finally getting to the good stuff :) Listen to:**

**This Is Gonna Hurt - Hoobastank (Awesome song! PERFECT for this chapter!)**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**With the Glamours Gone**_

Blaise hit the floor hard, and I won't deny that my eyes widened. This was the first time he'd been beaten...and by the underdog, no less. I watched James step over him, nudging Blaise's head to the side with his foot. Zabini was limp-completely unconscious.

Under any other circumstances, this would've been normal. Colter's fights always ended in K.O.'s, as did many others...but again, this was Blaise we were talking about. Only one other person hadn't been knocked out yet.

And that was me.

We'd been fighting for about three weeks now, and I'd still yet to have an unsatisfied customer. Add to that, we hadn't been caught. Things were going remarkably well...until about ten minutes from this very moment.

All the wands were placed back on the wheel, which spin faster than I'd ever seen it go before, two wands erupting into the air shortly after. I recognized them immediately.

"First combatant: James Colter. Second combatant: Draco Malfoy."

Colter was still panting.

Brow raised at him, I started to loosen my tie. "Can you go another round?" We were hardly friends. I wasn't about to go easy on him-but I sought out fair fights. There was nothing honorable about beating the shit out of a tired man.

And I've said it before, but I'll say it again: Slytherin men are all about honor.

Kyle and Theo pulled Blaise out of the way as James rolled up his bloodstained sleeves. "You kidding?" His fists were up, ready for his third fight of the evening. It must've been morning by now, though.

"Well, alright then," and I swung.

The fight itself was a blur to me, like it'd been with Theo-all anger and competition...trying to prove we were the alpha male-but I remembered the last couple of minutes.

My nose was bleeding heavily, and so were Colter's ears from when I'd boxed them. The other boys were cheering us on. They liked to watch the good fights-the dirty ones.

This was right about the time that James went for a roundhouse kick, only off by a fraction of a second in timing, and I latched onto his leg, yanking us both to the floor. We slammed onto the tile, wrestling and punching whatever we could reach. At some point we cracked a sink, and the water started to spray everywhere. Theo took a step toward us, as if in warning, but we paid him no heed as I trapped James in a headlock.

All my rage at my father, at the Dark Lord...at the fucking _stain_ on my arm...it was rolling off of me in waves-and I didn't know why. But I couldn't stop myself...and before I realized I was choking Colter to death, I was zapped.

The electricity coursed painfully through my veins, using my arms as a vessel to shock James. A wild scream wracked out of him, and not the kind I'd been expecting.

It was high-pitched and..._feminine. _

Releasing him from both astonishment and the pain of the electrocution, I watched as he struggled and writhed on the floor, visible currents rippling across his body.

"Theo!" I roared. "Stop!"

"I'm not doing it!" And he thrust his wand away to prove it.

James reared up on his knees, shrieking madly and then buckling back down into himself, pounding his fists on the floor.

And then a mass of silky, dirty-blonde locks tumbled to the floor, covering his head like a cloak.

Or should I say..._her. _

"Oh my god..." Theo breathed.

"_Fuck," _I murmured, jaw going slack.

The room erupted into questioning and shouts of disbelief as Jamie rose her head from the wet tile, hair tangled before her eyes but not enough to hide her fury. As she slowly sat up, everything fell into place...

A Glamour. She must've been using a Glamour.

The clothes I'd seen James wearing were gone...or, rather..._altered. _They were girl's robes now, and damn, but if they weren't soaked through...

All in one instant, every man in that room was sick to his stomach and aroused to the point of pain. Sick because the majority of us had just realized we'd spent the last three works beating like hell on a woman.

Aroused because...well, because she could fucking_ fight_. And the fact that her shirt was entirely transparent with water might've helped a bit.

When she got to her feet, her fists were up again, as if she thought we'd attack her. Ha! Like any of us would dare to knowingly injure a woman.

I just said what all of us were thinking.

"J-Jamie? Jamie, what the _fuck _are you thinking?!" I tried to drag my eyes away from the lacy, green brassiere she was wearing. Slytherin green...

_Fuck me._

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" I added after a moment, mentally shaking my head at myself-trying to wake up.

The bruises she'd Glamoured away started to appear on her face...along with the scars and gashes and a black eye.

My arousal instantly died.

Before I could really think anything through, she'd darted forward, not toward me, but toward Theo.

Seeming as dumbfounded as I was, he was unable to defend himself when she ripped the wand from his hand and kneed him in the groin. A second later, Theo's wand was aimed at me.

"Jamie..." I said carefully, raising my hands in faux surrender. We both knew I couldn't let this go. Couldn't let her just walk away...

"Don't move!" she snapped, extended the wand a little further.

"Jamie, we're not going to hurt you." And all I could think was that it was a good thing Blaise was unconscious.

"I said don't move!" she shouted, and I could see her hand was shaking. From fear? No...from adrenaline? Yes.

"Jamie..."

One of the boys on my right shifted about an inch, and for the split second that Jamie's eyes flickered in that direction, I was allowed my chance.

I lunged forward and yanked the wand out of her hand, flipping her around by the waist and pinning her back to my chest. Whereas before I didn't have the advantage of size, with her Glamour gone I did.

"Stop," I murmured patiently in her ear when she doubled over and started to kick, screaming as she clawed at my arms. Her thin shoulders wracked in my hold, but she was helpless. She couldn't move.

"_Stop,"_ I warned her again when she continued to struggle. But it was when she started to wriggle her hips that I'd finally had enough. I couldn't afford to have the desire come racing back. Not now.

So I raised Theo's wand and whispered, _"Stupefy." _

Jamie went limp in my arms, her light weight easy to bear as I hoisted her up bridal-style.

Theo was only just getting to his feet, his face pale from the blow she'd dealt to his crotch.

"Go back to the common room." I said it to everyone, but I was looking at him.

"What're you going to do with her?" Theo asked.

_"Look at her_. I'm taking her to the Hospital Wing."

"Draco! Mate! You can't do that! We'll be caught!" His protests were echoed by many of the others, but I silenced them with a loud call of,

"I'll accept the blame. No one else is responsible! Now _get back to the common room!" _

A flinching silence ensued before they started to file quickly out of the bathroom. Two boys took hold of Blaise's arms and feet, towing him away...

And I was left alone, with an unconscious Jamie Cutler in my arms-badly beaten, half-naked and soaking wet.

I repeat: Fuck me.


	9. You're Disgusting

**I apologize in advance. This chapter is kind of creepy. Listen to:**

**End of the World - Armor For Sleep**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Eight**_

_**You're Disgusting**_

_~This chapter is dedicated to sweetsilent3 for her kind words. Sorry the chapter's not as sweet at you are :) ~  
_

_~ Jamie ~_

I woke up feeling drugged. One of those "there was something in the water" feelings. Know what I mean?

Prying my eyelids apart with my fingers, I squinted and blinked, trying to get a grasp on my surroundings. The light was dim-gloomy-and I could hear muffled voices somewhere to my left.

One sounded like Pomfrey...

Suddenly, the crisply starched sheets beneath and around me-the sterile smell, the pain behind my eyes-made sense. Damn. The Hospital Wing. _Again. _

The last time I'd been in here was three weeks ago. I'd rammed my fist into one of the stone knights in fury. Broke every bone in my hand.

I was starting to remember why I was in here this time, too...

The reality of my situation came crashing down around my shoulders. It was over. R & R. They'd outed me-and I'd never get that kind of relief again.

As if to prove it, my arm started to ache. And I wanted to punch another statue.

_God dammit!_

Hearing my growl of frustration, Pomfrey and a team of other mediwitches came rushing into the room to my bedside.

"Goodness, Miss Cutler," Pomfrey said sternly. "You did give us a scare."

Slowly, I raised my arm to my head, massaging my aching temple with another groan. But I nearly jumped out of my skin when I considered that they might've seen my Mark.

Hurriedly, I wrenched up my sleeve, finding a shocking expanse of clean, peach skin. My mouth fell agape, at a total loss for words, and Pomfrey chose that moment to press her cold hand against my forehead.

"Are you quite alright, my dear?"

Shaking my head at myself, I tried to recover as quickly as possible. "I-fine...I'm..._fine." _

_Someone has Glamoured my arm..._

"Mr. Malfoy said that he found you beside the Whomping Willow. What the devil did you think you were doing, child?" one of the other witches asked.

My eyes narrowed.

_Malfoy._

"I...I just..." thinking up an excuse was difficult, but it ended up just slurring out. "I was overheated in the middle of the night. Went for a walk."

Though convinced, the witches seemed exasperated, "Why is it that none of you seventh years can ever follow the rules? No entering the grounds after hours!"

"Sorry..." I whispered. "I'd forgotten."

"Don't forget again, then," Pomfrey passed her wand over me once, twice...three times, and I watched my wounds slowly close. "I think the dangers of such rule-breaking is obvious to you now."

A wicked thought came to mind, "Did you ever ask Malfoy what he was doing outside?"

Pomfrey opened her mouth, shut it, then glanced at her colleagues. "I...well, no. There was no time for such things."

I nodded knowingly. No one liked getting Malfoy into trouble. He had..._connections._ Power.

"I'd like to leave now, if that's alright," I said quietly, sitting up. They looked indecisive, but let me go without another word, eyes following me all the way to the door.

It was early afternoon, judging by the lighting as I marched through the halls. Lunch had not yet begun. All the same, it was quiet for a Wednesday. All the classes were still in progress and I felt sort of out of place, wandering around the castle alone.

I decided to go back to the dungeons. Have a quick look at my face in the common room-see how bad I looked-then brave the Great Hall to get something to eat. I was starving.

My plan backfired, though, as soon as I rounded the first corner of the dungeon hallway.

I was grabbed.

Grabbed so swiftly that the walls spun, making me dizzy as I was shoved roughly up against the wall. The force of the impact on my inner injuries made me wince, and whoever had me instantly loosened their grip.

I didn't have to open my eyes to know. I could smell him.

"_Get. Off. Me. Malfoy,"_ I bit out, cautiously opening my eyes to his determined and furious face. And damn him, he still looked handsome.

His hands had the fabric of my shirt bunched up at the shoulders, holding me in place, and with a dark growl, he whispered, "Explain yourself."

I glared at him. "I don't have to explain _anything_ to you."

Roughly, he gave me a shake, and I felt my feet lift of the ground. Great. Now I was dangling, completely at his mercy.

"You know exactly what you've done..." he hissed, "and you're going to atone for it."

"Yeah? And how do you expect me to do that?"

"Make the Unbreakable Vow," he said instantly. "Swear that you'll never speak of it, nor participate ever again."

My glare tightened, "Your audacity astounds me. How dare you-"

"You'll do it!" he demanded, shaking me again.

And I just had to push it that one inch further. "Or _what?" _

He hesitated, but I could see in his eyes that it wasn't because he didn't know, but because he didn't want to tell me. Finally, he said it.

"Or I'll hand you over to Blaise."

"_Ooh..." _I wiggled my fingers. "Blaise. Very frightening."

Malfoy's jaw clenched. "He'll hurt you."

"_Please..._" I scoffed. "As if I've never endured the torture curse. Little to do with pain scares me. I think I've proven that."

Draco shook his head with a dark, powerful sigh. "He'll rape you, Jamie. He's done it before. And I won't stop him."

My eyes widened with both horror and outrage. "You're _disgusting_," I spat, trying to shove away from him again. He held on tight, though, refusing to let me shift more than a few inches.

But then he dropped me, and the ache in my shoulders seemed to intensify as soon as I was free. "You'll make the Vow," he said.

I recoiled from him, unable to believe it.

"Don't ever touch me again." My voice trembled.

He stepped toward me, and I tried to ignore the way his face softened as I batted his outstretched hands away.

"I know you're scared. You have to be scared. The Dark Lord wants this for us. If it's ruined, there'll be hell to pay."

"_Don't ever touch me again!" _I screamed. "Don't come _near_ me!"

And then I bolted, tripping over my own feet with no idea where I was going.

I just had to get away.


	10. Cheers

**This'll probably end up being my favorite chapter of the entire fic. You'll see why ;) Listen to:**

**Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana (One of the best songs of all time! Listen! Listen! Listen!)**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Nine**_

_**Cheers**_

_~ Draco ~_

I spent most of the evening trying not to feel sick about myself...all of it, actually. Which, as you can imagine, provided for a very fitful night's sleep. I don't know how many of you have threatened to secondhand rape a girl, but it's not a pretty aftermath.

I'd rather gargle nails, to be honest.

Making matters worse-because matters _always_ have to be made worse in my life-my Mark was burning a goddamned tattoo into my bones, searing like some bloke was cooking his fucking breakfast on it.

Needless to say, when I came down to eat the following morning, I was unsmiling. Theo took one look at me and dropped his fork, "Well fuck, I'd say I hit you a bit harder than I thought."

I shot him a warning glance at his volume before tucking myself in at the Slytherin table, surrounded in a comfortable circle of R & R members, all of which, I might add, looked equally apprehensive about the issue that was Jamie.

"Don't flatter yourself," I spat at him, helping myself to a heaping pile of piping hot eggs and then drowning them in a waterfall of Worcestershire sauce.

"Mate..." Garber murmured, "that's bloody disgusting."

Looking up from my plate, I saw several of the other blokes nod their heads in agreement.

"Give him a break," Nott laughed, slapping me on the back. "His mum dropped him on his head when he was a baby. You should see what he does to cherry-flavored suckers..."

Growling over the resulting laughter, I turned to face him, "I'm warning you. I'm in no mood." Then I stabbed at my eggs, beginning to shovel them into my mouth, heedless of the burn.

It got quiet again, and I knew instantly that they were waiting for information on Jamie, but I continued to eat...just because I'm a prick like that.

Finally, when my plate was all but clear and I was lazily swiping up the sauce with my fingertip, Nott leaned in close, and the others followed suit.

"Tell us, Malfoy. What's the verdict?"

I sat back, wiping my mouth with a napkin and feeling the abrupt need for something stronger than pumpkin juice. Not caring whether or not someone saw me, I removed my "emergency" stash from the loose stitching in my tie.

Brows raised as I flicked open the small vile and dumped a teaspoon's worth of Firewhiskey into my glass, sloshing it around. Then I downed it in one go and slammed it onto the table, looking forward to the faint fuzziness that would come on in a minute or so.

"I tried to get her to make the Unbreakable Vow...but she's not biting."

"Jesus man, was that alcohol?" Theo eyed me strangely.

I continued over him, "I'll take care of it, though. I don't want anyone else getting involved. It might.._.jeopardize_ things. In the meantime, we'll simply have to take extra precautions." And with a casual shrug, I'd worked my magic and made the whole thing seem nonchalant.

The boys leaned back, glancing between one another, then mimicked the shrug and continued eating. White noise filled my aching ears as pointless conversations were struck up, and I relaxed my head into my palm, enjoying the buzz the whiskey had given me.

It had temporarily blocked out the part of my brain that was telling me this whole situation was anything _but_ nonchalant.

Then someone adjusted their weight on the bench beside me, scooting over as if to make room, and a newcomer took their place.

I looked up just in time to see Jamie slide a small sheet of parchment into my trouser pocket. Then she leaned forward, taking advantage of my shock to get close to me, and whispered in my ear, "I have to go in five minutes. Make small talk with me, then give me a reason to leave. Now laugh like I've said something funny."

On cue, I gave my best seductive chuckle, then reached up to tilt her chin to the side because two could play at this game. Leaning into the crook of her neck, I murmured, "Small talk isn't my forte, sweetheart. If you want something from me, you better damn well say it out loud."

As she pulled away, her eyes narrowing, she ground out, _"Read it,"_ then feigned a laugh quite similar to mine that had the unfortunate effect of painfully hardening my cock in my trousers.

She was gone the next second, stalking off through the hall with that damnably sexy sway of her hips. I had it on good authority that every male eye followed her to the door.

"I've got to take a piss," I announced after the appropriate amount of time had passed between her exit and mine, then stood and left the hall.

I knew what I was hoping was in the note.

Her agreement over the Vow.

But Jamie is too unpredictable for that, and I know now that I should've realized that at the time. I was just too tired and too fed up to think in that frame of mind.

At the foot of the Grand Staircase, I couldn't control my patience any long, pulling the sheet from my pocket and unfolding it.

I had about five seconds to read her words, scribbled in tight, anything-but-girly handwriting across the page.

_Here's to never threatening me again._

_Cheers._

After that, it was mostly a blur, but I'll tell you what I think it was that happened...

I'm fairly certain I caught on fire for a split second-but I can't be sure because the next second, a wall of water was crashing down on me, soaking me to the bone.

And I could barely manage a gasp before the parchment literally exploded in my hands, fireworks shooting out of the paper and up between the stairs like torpedos. They burst open right when they reached the high chandelier, and those present erupted into screams of terror as about a thousand shards of glass came plummeting down toward me.

I reacted as quickly as I could've under the circumstance, ripping out my wand, falling to one knee and shouting, _"Protego!" _

That was where Snape found me, along with a number of other professors.

Kneeling on the ground, soaking wet, surrounded by ash and glass with an extremely expensive chandelier swinging off its hinge about three hundred feet above me.

And only one thought came to mind.

_Father will have my head for this. _


	11. I Don't Tattle

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_**Chapter Ten**_

_**I Don't Tattle**_

"Peeves."

It was out of my mouth before anything else, because I just knew he wouldn't deny a prank so monumentally heinous. He'd want to take credit for it.

McGonagall pursed her lips at me, trying to make up her mind about it, at which point Snape's cool voice took over. "I believe, a poltergeist with a similar name pulled a similar trick down in the dungeons last month, Minerva. I think it would be appropriate, at this time, to take action."

Her hands moved to her severe hips and she glanced sideways at him. "Just what do you suggest, Severus?"

"An evening in a the boggart closet, perhaps?" He quirked a greasy brow, a half-smile tugging at his lips. But though I should've been grateful to him, I knew he didn't believe me. He was too..._omniscient_ for that.

And it left a great unease in my gut when McGonagall marched away, parting the sea of gawking students and yelling at them to disperse, all the while muttering about _"insufferable hauntings." _

Snape eyed me carefully, brows drawn tightly together. I moved my hands to my hair, squeezing out the soaking strands and then ruffling it between my fingers. I had to say it. It wouldn't be convincing if I didn't.

"My father will hear about-"

"Don't bother, Mr. Malfoy," he drawled, crossing his arms. "I think it's high time you reconsider the company that you keep. Mm?" Then, after a flick of his wand as the chandelier began to repair itself, he turned on his heel, dark cape billowing out behind him, and was gone.

Growling under my breath, I considered casting a quick _scourgify, _but thought better of it, deciding I wanted Jamie to see me at my worst-at my angriest.

Class was due to start in a few moments, and I thought myself both lucky and very unlucky that she was in it with me. I had more than a few words for her, not all of them in the English language, but I knew that if I caught one glimpse of that smug little grin she could make, I'd blow my fucking top.

And that was something no one wanted to witness.

Theo was waiting for me by the the doors to the Great Hall, brows raised to the top of his skull, but I just shook my head at him, and we proceeded to trudge-well,_ I_ was trudging-to the dungeons for Potions.

Slughorn was still in his office when we barged in, and the class sat talking at their tables, empty cauldrons in front of them.

I tossed my soaked bag onto my desk, ignoring the blatant stares as I approached Jamie's table. She was leaning back, eyes closed comfortably for a moment's rest...and I took great pleasure in slamming my palms down flat in front of her, jerking her to attention.

Dealing my most furious glare, I waited as she evaluated me, water dripping from my hair onto the skin of her hand. She wrenched that arm from my sight almost instantly, quirking a brow. "Well, don't you look dashing? A new style, I gather..."

The room had gone quiet to watch our interaction, and Jamie's partner, Victoria Stone, visibly blushed at my proximity.

I geared my attention back to Jamie's cold, gorgeous eyes. "You think you're clever, don't you?" I hissed. "You think you've got it all figured out."

Her eyes tightened as she produced a small, calculating grin and shrugged, "Who knows, Malfoy? Maybe I do."

"I got off clean with that one." I jerked my head at the door. "You won't."

"Going to tattle on me?" She sagged her bottom lip in a ridiculous-yet somehow still pretty-pout. I smirked,

"I don't tattle. I get revenge."

Something entered her eyes then. A wickedness I didn't like. She had some kind of leverage over me...and she was going to use it.

"Revenge isn't the best way to keep me quiet, now is it, _Draco?" _My given name rolled off her tongue in such an arousing way, I had to adjust myself against the table's edge. I shouldn't have been turned on...

I should've been raving mad.

But just as I opened my mouth to form some kind of vicious retort, Slughorn appeared from his office, clapping his hands together, "Come now, everyone. Back to your seats. I've a particularly engaging lesson for you toda-good gracious! Mr. Malfoy...are you quite well?"

My fists clenching, knuckles bleaching to white, I turned to snarl at him, "Just_ fine." _

But as I made my way to my table, I caught a final glimpse of Jamie...and she winked at me.

Theo was smart enough to latch onto my wrist before I could go storming back over there, and he pulled me down into my seat, shooting me a look.

Snatching up my wand, I cast a silent _scourgify _and watched my appearance put itself back together.

"As I was saying..." Slughorn continued, adjusting his ridiculous cap and moving to the blackboard, "today's lesson is one of intense concentration..."

A shame, because I would spend the remainder of the lesson thinking of ways to socially destroy Jamie Cutler. I'll admit, even a few of the weasel twin's tricks came to mind. But no...it had to be something darker.

Something crueler.

I take pride in the fact that it only took me about twenty minutes to invent the idea...and it was _horrible. _

So horrible that I'm ashamed of it now-and had I known how excruciatingly painful it would be, I can't say that I still wouldn't have still done it.

And that's what made me a boy then...and a man now. A Mark has nothing to do with it.

I took a late trip to the library that night, easily skirting past Madam Pince and into the restricted section. I remember being so nervous about that when I was a first year...

Now it was as simple as brewing a pot of tea.

I ended up finding a compliant spell in one of the chained books.

A severing spell.


	12. The Ruination of Jamie Cutler

**Okay...yikes. Here it is. I apologize in advance. Listen to:**

**Burn - Papa Roach (ABSOLUTELY PERFECT FOR THIS CHAPTER!)**

**Enjoy :)**

**_Chapter Eleven  
_**

**_The Ruination of Jamie Cutler_**

Plans are made to backfire.

People tend to design things in their heads that have perfect outcomes. Everything will fall into place and the aftermath will be the best it can be.

This never happens.

Regardless, I walked in with the thought that I'd walk out with nothing but a good laugh and a permanent smirk. Leverage.

I walked out covered in Jamie's blood with her screams still ringing in my ears. I walked out bathed in shame.

I walked out knowing that I could never let myself near her again.

I'd never planned on hurting her...but all plans backfire.

Thursday night had begun with waiting. I sat on the largest leather couch in the common room, waiting for the rest of Slytherin House to return from dinner. I wanted a crowd. Wanted them to witness the ruination of the stone-made Jamie Cutler.

Something inside me had been boiling since her silky blonde hair had spilled out on that tile bathroom floor. She'd disguised herself as a man, which was probably what angered me the most.

Male Death Eaters have it the worst. Especially young.

The Dark Lord makes us do the dirty work. Murder. Rape. Destruction. It's always us.

Women are given the secretive jobs, like those special agents seen on Muggle television shows. They gather information.

Never, I thought, would they know the horrors of being a man-so what gave Jamie the right to masquerade as one?

It was that thought that drove me straight into what I was about to do. A cruel, unnecessary prank, even if it had gone the right way.

The common room was full now, and I'd been eyeing Jamie where she was sitting for a good hour or so before I forced myself to get up and do it.

Striding casually toward her usual spot by the fireplace, I crouched down beside her, plastering on the best regretful face I could manage. Almost instantly, her brows shot up and she looked suspicious.

_Smart girl._

"Jamie..." I murmured, my tone silky. "I need to speak with you."

She sniffed, "Oh, by all means, speak away. Not that it'll make much difference."

"_Please." _Now I schooled my expression to seem desperate. "It's important."

"I told you," she bit out. _"Speak." _

"I have to know that you're listening first."

With a small growl of frustration, she pivoted her body on the chair to face me, crossing her arms over her chest, "Happy?"

"Better," I said, tilting my head. "I just...I suppose I have to apologize."

Her lip curled up in a mocking, sarcastic fashion that made my fists clench, but I forced myself to remain in control. This would never work otherwise.

"Just hear me out," I rushed, holding up my hands.

She sniffed again.

Eyes were starting to drift over to us, and I knew the right moment was fast approaching. My audience was present. My target was engaged. I thought I had nothing to lose.

"It didn't occur to me at the time that your arm hurts as much as ours do. My first reaction was..._sexist_, to say the least. But, you must understand. We're men of Slytherin. We protect our women at all costs. Seeing you there...bleeding by our hands...it just drove me wild."

She tried to keep her eyes tight and guarded, but I could see something barely slipping away behind them.

"Threatening you was the only thing I could think of...but I see now that it was the wrong thing-"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she demanded suddenly. "Cut the simpering bullshit."

I sighed. It didn't really matter whether or not it went this way, but I'd have preferred to have her wrapped around my finger.

I just had to keep reminding myself that Jamie wasn't that kind of girl.

"I want to offer you a position."

Ah. Now I had her.

Her eyes widened a fraction, and she seemed to stumble over her words. "A position? In your secret society?"

"It won't be a secret if you keep speaking so loudly. My point is...you've earned your place. So long as you still want it..."

"Yes. I want it," she said immediately.

It was then that I went in for the kill.

"On one condition..."

Her excitement snagged there, expression becoming guarded once more. _"What?"_ she snapped.

"Well...it'll be easier for us gents if you look like a man, yeah? And since you seem so hellbent on it..."

I whipped out my wand before she could react-before she could even blink-and swished it across her body, a look of triumph on my face.

She was still for several seconds, like a statue frozen on the brink of words, and I waited earnestly for my spell to work. For her beautiful, long blonde hair to fall out, withering from her scalp into a crumpled mass on the floor.

But that never happened.

And I realize now that I wasn't clear enough with the spell.

My intentions had been aimed for her hair, but my thought had been to strip her of her womanhood. And that's exactly what it did.

Behind her crisp, white button-down, two violently scarlet splotches appeared and began to steadily grow. The liquid seeped through the fabric, pouring down her torso and onto her lap-dripping onto my fingers-as the choking scent of iron filled the room.

Several onlookers gasped.

"Jamie..." I breathed, "wh-"

Her shocked eyes filled with brutally repressed tears and she let loose a scream that could break glass.

_What...is...happening?_

"_Please!" _she shrieked. "Make it stop!"

Something inside me snapped at that...because no one had ever heard Jamie beg.

I dropped to my knees in front of her as she violently clutched her bleeding chest. And I suddenly realized...

My spell hadn't taken her hair.

My spell had taken her breasts.

Her womanhood.

Two massive gashes marked her beneath the sheer material, her chest flattened out.

"My god..."

She lunged at me, hands tangling in my shirt as she writhed in agony and chanted that damned word over and over again. "Please, please, please,_ please..." _

She was going to bleed out. She was going to _die. _

By my hand.

"MOVE!" I roared at the rapidly growing crowd, gathering her up into my arms even as she dug deep lacerations into my skin with her fingernails. Shoving my way through the mass of Slytherins, I clutched her tightly and bolted, casting a _bombarda_ with one hand and ripping the door off its hinges.

The path to the Hospital Wing was the most terrifying race I'd ever run, all the while hearing her cries die out...feeling her grip loosen.

I had never hated anyone more than I hated myself at that moment. The thoughts running through my head were almost suicidal.

And when I burst into the wing, catapulting into Madam Pomfrey, I didn't give a fuck about scraping open my knees or breaking two fingers. All I needed was to see her healed-_immediately_.

That was all that mattered.

"What in god's name has-"

"Me! Me! It was all me! Dammit,_ save her!_" I shouted, splaying her out on one of the cots. "DO IT!"

"I-I can't-" Madam Pomfrey stuttered, in complete shock.

I ripped out my wand without a second thought and aimed it at her. "Do it now...or I'll kill you."

I wasn't sure what was worse: The fact that I'd said it, or the fact that I knew I meant it.

My fuse was so short these days, I couldn't even breathe...

"Save her..." I whispered, my wand hand shaking.

Madam Pomfrey, with eyes wide as globes, could only nod her head once. Then she and a team of other nurses were bent over Jamie, doing their best to save her life.

And all I remember was falling to my bloodied knees and retching all over the pristine hospital tile.

* * *

**Please don't hate me! I'll fix it! I promise! :?  
**

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	13. Hoping You Are Well

**Sorry, this one's a tad short-but it's important. I understand that I shocked a bunch of readers with the last chapter and for that I apologize. I'm only trying to show that a relationship with Draco would be anything be candy, hearts and roses. It will get better. I promise. :) Listen to:**

**Call Me Home - Static Cycle (This song is beautiful :') )  
**

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_**Chapter Twelve**_

_**Hoping You Are Well**_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Slytherin Common Room_

_Mens' Dormitory _

_Bed #4_

_Mr. Draco Caelum Morpheus Malfoy,_

_We have received intelligence that at exactly thirty-seven minutes past nine this evening, you performed a prohibited severing hex (more specifically, Incisus Maxima) upon a fellow student, Jamie Anabella Cutler, and reportedly caused serious harm. The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Sorcery has resulted in your possible expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic, nine o'clock sharp on Friday, December the 18th. Absence will result in immediate detainment. _

_Hoping you are well,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

I stared at the damned letter for a long while, bolt upright in bed and bathed in cold sweat from half a night's attempted sleep. It must've only been three in the morning, but somehow, this letter had found me.

And all I could seem to withdraw from it was Jamie's middle name.

_Anabella..._

What a beautiful, delicate middle name...

She was still in the Hospital Wing-still unconscious. And I was trying with all I had not to think about it, because it had this horrible effect of cutting off my air supply. I just...I couldn't fucking _breathe..._knowing what I did to her.

Threatening rape was nothing compared to this.

And it was also hard to forget that this was the second time I'd put her in a hospital cot, in less than a week.

That had to be some sort of record, not that I'd ever want to know.

I dropped the rough parchment on my naked thighs, glaring at the Ministry's seal. Beyond anything I really cared about, I'd done one more thing this evening...

I'd painted a scar on the face of the Malfoy name.

I would be the first in history to commit a crime and see justice for it. We were always supposed to slither out of the way of blame.

That's what any good snake does.

Hell, I'd bet some prim, heavily starched Ministry official had squealed with glee when they saw my last name on the infraction list, just salivating at the opportunity to pin one of us with something.

My father might never even speak to me again.

And my mother...oh, Salazar, my _mother..._

This was a hate crime against women, and she'd been the one to raise me right on how to treat them. She would be ashamed, to say the least. More specifically, I'd probably broken her heart.

And it takes a lot to hurt my mother like that.

I considered writing a letter to my parents-apologizing immediately...but I felt that would be fanning a flame. They already knew. That was certain.

At least for the next twenty-four hours, they'd want nothing to do with me.

I heard one of the stone knights shift outside the dormitory's door, sworn to stay at his post.

I was under guard, forbidden to leave unless given Dumbledore's, or a Ministry official's, explicit consent.

And the worst part about the idea of a hearing was knowing that there was absolutely nothing I could say in my own defense. Not without revealing all the gentlemen in R & R.

No, scratch that last.

I had nothing to say in my own defense, _period. _

This was a depraved act, and I deserved to be punished for it.

I must've been every inch a Malfoy novelty at this point-actually _wanting_ punishment. I wondered, had the world turned on its head? Tilted off its axis? Something had to've happened for this tidal wave of unexpected to come crashing through.

Sinking back down into my sweat-damp pillows, too soft for my taste at this point, I swept the letter off my legs and turned on my side.

Not a single man in this room, now sleeping soundly in their beds, had managed a word for me after what had happened. After all, I'd planned for an audience-and an audience I received.

It had been an all-too-silent trip back to the dormitory, accompanied by no less than five stone knights whilst simultaneously taking on the stares of every Slytherin in the school.

There was nothing to be said.

Shutting my tireless eyes for what felt like the thousandth time, I formed an image of Jamie in my mind. At first, it made my chest ache relentlessly as I watched her subconscious form dance around my head, watched her beautiful muscles tense and ease, watched her hair wave in nonexistent wind.

But then the pain melted away and I was content just to watch her.

My craving...my muse...my gorgeous, little viper.

In almost no time at all, she had gone from being a small pulse at the back of my mind-recognizing her existence but never really paying much attention to it, aside from the occasional wank to her fantasy late at night-to becoming my every desire.

She was all I'd ever wanted...all that fire, all that passion. Her consistency and drive. When she wanted something she got it, and she never backed down.

She was the woman for me-and I knew it.

But it also killed me to know that I was the reason I'd lost her. My opportunity was a neglected pile of ashes beneath a phoenix's cage. Once living, but now dead.

Although, what I failed to realize-what I always seem to keep forgetting-is that Jamie is a power source. A constant battery.

She _never gives up. _

Hell, in some ways, neither do I.

What I failed to realize is that...that pile of ashes...the dead opportunity...it wasn't dead forever.

Because phoenixes are reborn from the ashes.

* * *

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	14. Don't Be Like Arcon

**Okay, so I noticed that some of you guys are becoming a little desperate for some sex. I promise, in a couple chapters, I'll write a steamy scene for you, but unfortunately, it'll be a little while before you get exactly what you want. :/ Sorry. Listen to:**

**God, Drugs & Sex - Anberlin (ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! LISTEN!)**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

_**Don't Be Like Arcon**_

Naturally, all R & R meetings were cancelled that week. Theo had been kind enough to tell me that. As for the remaining seven days until my hearing, I was only allowed out to eat meals during classes.

The statue knights followed me everywhere-including the loo.

Suffice to say, it didn't feel as if I'd had a moment of privacy to spare, save those sleepless nights in my dormitory. But those I reserved for thinking of Jamie, whose condition I had absolutely no knowledge of...

And it was driving me mad.

More than once, I'd tried to confront Madam Pomfrey, but the knights forbid it-not that she'd speak to me anyway. Not after I'd threatened her like that.

I'd even tried recruiting Zabini and Nott to gather information, but they said they weren't allowed in to see her.

God damn, I was basket case.

And I was getting sick...

I could see it in my reflection every morning, consistently worsening. Is it possible to be so sick with yourself that you actually induce a fever?

My skin was sallow and pinched looking, the almost-always hidden freckles beneath my eyes appearing beneath nearly transparent flesh. And all the muscle I'd built up from R & R was melting away because I wasn't working out...and I wasn't eating.

I didn't give a damn, anyway. My health wasn't important at the moment, and on some level, I was glad to see myself suffering.

The guilt was eating me alive.

Well, either that, or I'd gone seriously masochistic.

_She's still alive..._I had to keep reminding myself. _You're not a murderer._

But with another glance in the mirror at my cold, lifeless eyes and that moving scar on my arm made me amend that statement.

_Yet._

It wouldn't be long before the Dark Lord started deploying us-having us systematically pick off muggle-borns. It would be genocide...and I wasn't even nervous.

All I cared about was Jamie-and I was slowly realizing that what had once been attraction, had turned to desperation, and then to obsession.

I was lusting after her like no boy does.

It must've been in the Malfoy roots.

My grandfather, Abraxas, had once told me the story of his brother Arcon. A man that would've been my great uncle, had he lived to see my birth. According to my grandfather, he was a man who inspired envy in everyone he met.

He had everything going for him. His highbrow, delicate, aristocratic looks (a common trait among Malfoys), his obvious, off-the-charts intelligence, proven by flawless N.E.W.T. scores, his riches, his charm, his athletic potential...

Apparently, it was only when he was introduced to Helena Ford, Astoria Greengrass's grandmother, that he met his undoing. She was a beautiful, purebred Slytherin with eyes the color of emeralds and stunning auburn locks, only twenty-three years of age.

She'd danced past Arcon at one of those holiday bashes Malfoys always throw, looking like Heaven on Earth in his eyes, and he'd immediately inquired after her.

Outings were set up between our family and hers for him to court her, and supposedly, he'd thought everything was going remarkably well.

But Helena was not nearly as enamored with him as he was with her...and after about three dates, she politely requested that her family call it off.

It nearly destroyed Arcon when they told him, because, like me, he'd become obsessed with her in only a short amount of time. Abraxas said that afterward, he faded from the public eye, becoming a recluse in his mansion somewhere far off in the highlands.

Only when news reached him of Helena's engagement to another man did he come out of hiding. Literally _that night_, he broke into their estate and found his way into the master bedroom.

And my grandfather spared no details at my expense.

Arcon found Helena in the midst of a wild sexual climax, her fiance moving rigorously on top of her as the two moaned and gasped, both completely unaware of my great uncle's presence.

And in a deranged frenzy, Arcon ripped the man off of her and promptly beat him to death with his own fists-no wand. Minutes later, he was the one of top of the poor, hysterical Helena, and, as my grandfather put it, he raped her straight into unconsciousness.

Indeed...these are the kind of stories my family passes around at Christmastime.

Crazed, and apparently shocked at what he'd done, Arcon then fled the house, Apparating quickly to Abraxas's estate where he unceremoniously blurted the whole story. He then begged my grandfather for forgiveness and refuge from the Ministry of Magic, who would no doubt be on his tail shortly.

Abraxas refused him.

He told me he was ashamed to call him his brother, and that only now, as he so dearly loves my grandmother Portia, does he regret this choice, because he understands how love can drive a man wild.

Arcon was forced from the grounds by my grandfather's Wards, and not an hour later, he was found dead in an inn only a few miles south. Hanging from a conjured wire with Helena's name branded into his chest.

This is what I mean when I say that Malfoys never have to atone for their actions. They're always either dead or bought out of the situation.

Still, to this day, it remains a well-kept secret that Helena's rape had resulted in the birth of Astoria's mother. And, in effect, I am blood related to Astoria Greengrass.

She and I are the only ones in Hogwarts that know...and I'm fairly sure she hates every Malfoy on contact-including me-because of it.

Which is why I find it both strange and disturbing that our families are trying to arrange a marriage between the two of us. Incest doesn't apply to Malfoys, I guess.

They're probably trying to make up for the wrong committed years ago, but I know that neither I, nor Astoria, nor her still-living grandmother will ever consent to it.

Anyway, what I mainly take from this is what would become my unfaltering motto for the next few years of my life.

_Don't be like Arcon. _

Splashing water onto my face, I took one last look at myself before righting my silver tie and moving away from my torturous reflection.

It was Friday. The day of the hearing.

And I gathered a final, deep breath before exiting the dormitory and entering the world of public slander.

* * *

_~ Jamie ~_

When the nurses were gone, I forced myself to do it. Forced myself to pull away the bandages around my naked chest and look at it.

The gashes were stitched together in two horizontal lines across my ribcage, and the scars were ghastly. Dark purple and blue with jagged veins visible underneath the thin, irritated flesh.

My nipples had been sliced clean off, but, true to Madam Pomfrey's word, they were only just growing back. The potion had taken her days to manipulate into working the right way, as she had confessed she'd never seen a thing like this before.

And it hadn't really sunk in yet...with me, that is.

I only stared. There were no tears, no sobs, no deeply heart-shattering realizations that my womanhood had been so viciously stripped from me.

I stared at my flat chest with a silence and a consideration that was almost callous in its appearance. And don't get me wrong...it wasn't because I didn't care.

It was because I didn't understand.

_Why? _

Why would Malfoy do this to me? As payback for a prank so small in comparison?

It didn't make any sense. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to be angry...or even to be upset. Rather, I was _frustrated._

Frustrated that Malfoy's offer to join the society had merely been a lead-up to this trick of his. That it didn't mean anything.

That my arm would still hurt.

And there was something cowardly in casting the Cruciatus Curse on yourself to ease pain. It was better to fight-to simultaneously give and receive pain in a fair way. A way that required skill and passion.

Malfoy's society provided just that. And I'd had a good thing going before I'd been fucking zapped by Nott.

Glamours don't hold up under electrocution.

With a heavy sigh as I massaged my aching temple, I called out tiredly, "You can come back in now."

Promptly, Madam Pomfrey and her team of medi-witches returned, filing into the room one by one.

"See? It's not so bad, dear..." one of them tried to convince me-I believe her name was Martha.

I gaped at her.

"Anyhow," Madam Pomfrey drew my attention, "I'm working on another potion for you. It'll be a long and painful process...but your body should be back to normal within the month."

Another sigh resonated from me, this one being a sigh of relief. The nurses smiled encouragingly at me and patted my knees.

"And I'll have you know," Pomfrey continued, "that your attacker is facing serious consequences for his actions."

"Malfoy? What...what sort of consequences?"

"Well just hours after the incident, he was summoned for a disciplinary hearing by the Ministry of Magic. It'll be starting in..." she glanced up at the large clock down the hall, "oh, just a few minutes now."

My eyes widened.

"They say it's highly likely he'll be expelled."

"_WHAT!?" _I shot bolt upright in my cot, frantically trying to yank the covers off of my weeklong bed-ridden body.

"What the devil's come over you, girl?" Pomfrey spluttered, trying forcefully to push me back down.

"No! I have to-I have to-"

I couldn't let this happen...

I couldn't let this happen...

Because that would mean-

And I-

No...I couldn't let this happen.

* * *

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	15. On Behalf

**Okay, this is a LONG one... :) I hope you like it. Congratulations, by the way! Like Madmen tied for winner of the fan-art poll. I'll be holding a fan-art contest for both the stories. The rules will be listed at the end of the chapter :) Listen to:**

**Paper Chase - Static Cycle (SOOOOOO SOOOOO SOOOOO GOOOD!)**

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_**Chapter Fourteen**_

_**On Behalf**_

I stared at the black and white tile, allowing my eyes to cross and blend the shades together. My numb hands dangled off of my knees, and in the floor's shiny surface, I could just barely see my pathetic reflection.

My hair was getting too long...and when I brushed my hand over my jaw, I could feel the unshaven stubble. Strange, that these were the things I was noticing at a time like this.

"...the following charges..."

My ears perked up at that point, and I glanced at the curved benches seating the Wizengamot. My parents were off to the side, pursed lips and crossed arms and all, pride held sharply intact, despite the circumstances. My defender, Charles Pucey, stood over my shoulder.

He was a last minute choice, known by my family as Adrian Pucey's father. He was also, I might add, a Death Eater.

And I was seated in the center of it all, in a single, black-horned chair, feeling like the Devil himself on trial. The Head of the Wizengamot began to list off my crimes.

"Assault, defacing of school property, random acts of violence, thr-"

"Objection," Pucey snapped.

The Head rose a wrinkled brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Assault and random acts of violence are one in the same. I ask that the latter be stricken from Mr. Malfoy's charges."

Already, though, the prosecutor was shaking his head. "They are very different, I assure you. Assault and battery is one act of violence. Mr. Malfoy has been accused of several _other_ acts of violence. They stand on their own."

Pucey's knuckles whitened on the arm of my chair.

"Now..." the Head straightened his spectacles, "may I continue?"

He waited for no affirmative.

"Random acts of violence, threatening a member of the Hogwarts staff, and trespassing."

"_Tresspassing!?" _I scoffed, aghast.

As an afterthought, Pucey added, "Objection."

"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy." The Head looked down his nose at me. "The Hogwarts staff has informed me that the specific curse you performed, _Incisus Maxima, _is exempt from the school curriculum. Madam Pince has also assured me that the only record of such a spell is locked away in the Restricted Section of your school library. Therefore..._trespassing." _

I collapsed back in my chair, pressing a hand to my brow and squeezing my eyes shut. I could feel a massive migraine coming on.

"Do you deny any of these charges?"

I cracked one eye to look at Pucey, who minutely shook his head.

"No," I murmured, replacing my head in my hand.

"Very well. The trial shall proceed." Turning to his right hand man, the Head nodded once and then announced, "First witness."

Witness? They had witnesses?

_Bloody hell._

A door embedded in the wall behind the Wizengamot was opened by the bailiff, in flounced Pansy Parkinson.

With a roll of my eyes, I was lost to the conversation again, disappearing into my own world of silent misery. It didn't matter what Pansy would say. Probably a load bullshit. She just wanted attention.

Didn't matter how much she vied for my affections.

Hell, maybe she was getting back at me for paying more attention to Jamie. For all I knew, Pansy would've loved to be the victim in this equation, just so she could say she had something to do with me.

And I'm not being vain here...

I could hear her useless warbling somewhere in the back of my head, like the constant chirp of those annoying morning bluejays, meanwhile allowing my thoughts to wander back to Jamie.

_Don't be like Arcon, _I reminded myself, but by the time I'd come back to my senses, Pansy had already been dismissed.

The next witness surprised me a little. I'd expected Madam Pomfrey, not her petite, ginger, second-in-command. But there she was, the little wisp of a woman.

"Please state your name," the bailiff commanded.

"Cynthia Prow," she said meekly.

"Do you swear to provide the honest truth, on the life of your magical abilities?"

"I do."

"Please be seated."

She swept her gray skirt beneath her legs and plopped down on the bench, looked every bit terrified by the massive crowd of people. Her eyes fell on me once before she sharply glanced away, her face darkening with a significant blush.

"Thank you for being here today, Miss Prow. Would you be so kind as to provide your account of the situation?" the Head asked gently.

She swallowed hard. "I...I'm here in Madam Pomfrey's stead. She's...preoccupied with her work."

"Completely understandable."

"But...but I was there, in the afters," she quickly added.

"Can you describe what happened?"

'Well..." her eyes wandered back to me, "well, Mr. Malfoy here...he was in a right state. Came blasting into the Hospital Wing with a girl bleedin' half to death in his arms. He only got so far as the first cot, 'fore his knees gave out and he threw her down on the bed."

"Did he seem...angry?" asked one of the Wizengamot's members.

She shook her head, "Not angry. He...well, he seemed horrified. And desperate. Very, _very _desperate."

"What happened then?"

"Well, I can't remember exactly what he said. He was yellin' a right lot. Sayin' we should help her."

"Help her?" another asked curiously.

"Yeah. Save her. That's what he said. Save her."

"Did he say anything else?"

She squinted, her small face scrunching up in thought. "Not that I remember...no. Well, that is...until..."

"Until he threatened Madam Pomfrey's life," the Head provided. Cynthia nodded.

"Objection." Pucey stepped forward. "With all do respect, Sir, the witness should give the information, not the prosecutor."

The Head glowered at him, the blurted out a clipped, "Sustained," and glanced expectantly back at Cynthia.

She nodded. "Yeah...he threatened to kill Madam Pomfrey right in front 'o all of us. Pulled out his wand and everything."

A barely audible groan slipped out of my throat and I sunk further into my chair, risking another glance at my parents.

To put it lightly, they did not appear pleased.

"And then..." the Head prompted.

"Well, then he collapsed, Sir. He got sick, then took off about ten minutes later. I honestly haven't seen him since...until now."

The Head waited for confirmation from his fellow jurors, then nodded at the bailiff.

"You're dismissed, Miss Prow. Thank you for your help."

The bailiff opened the door again, and the small woman slipped through, looking every bit glad to be out of there so soon.

"May the Honorable Wizengamot recognize our final witness," the Head decreed, and then the door was opened once more...and _he _stepped through.

I could barely see him.

My blood had shot to a boiling temperature so fast that I saw red. My posture went rigid and I clenched the chair arms tightly in my fists, teeth gritted to the point of pain.

And Pucey must've noticed, because his hand rested on my shoulder in warning.

"Please state your name."

"Blaise Zabini." A wicked smirk ghosted over my old friend's face, dark skin gleaming in the court's bright light.

"Do you swear to provide the honest truth, on the life of your magical abilities?" the bailiff droned.

"I do."

"Please be seated."

He slid casually onto the bench and crossed one leg, looking hideously smug. And I could feel the chair arms splintering under my grip.

"Mr. Zabini," the Head mused, "thank you for being here today. Is there anything you can provide for us that we have not been told already?"

Slowly tracing his lower lip with his thumb, Blaise shot me a sadistic leer, then turned to the Head. "Yes, actually."

_What is he doing?_

"By all means, then..." he gestured for Blaise to continue.

"I have some rather..._disturbing_ details about my friend's behavior. A history of violence, shall we say..." A full grin stretched across his face now.

And I couldn't help but growl under my breath. Pucey squeezed my shoulder roughly.

"Yes?" The Head nodded eagerly. Fuck, it was _so_ easy to tell who's side he was on.

"Well...the victim-Jamie, as you know her-she...well, I suppose I overheard a rather crass conversation between she and Malfoy."

"About what, Mr. Zabini?"

"Yeah..." I snarled, "about what..._Blaise?"_

"You'd do well to keep the defendant silent," the Head warned Pucey. Charles leaned down to hiss in my ear,

"Don't fuck this up. We still have a chance."

"He's a fucking liar, Pucey," I whispered behind clenched teeth.

He only dug his fingers into my shoulder.

"Please continue, young man," the Head spoke over us.

"Well, you see, he threatened to rape her, Sir."

The council audibly gasped, several of the women's faces flushing, and I heard my mother's little outraged squeak.

But that was all I heard.

My voice drowned all the others out.

"YOU LYING SON OF A BITCH!" Launching out of my chair, I batted away Pucey's desperately grasping hand as he tried to get a hold of me. He had to throw himself at me to restrain my attempts.

And I know that if he hadn't, I would've torn Zabini apart.

"He's a _fucking liar!" _I roared at my defender, trying to wrench out from under his arms. It didn't help that I was a good head taller than him.

It made me realize that I could break his arm if I had to.

"Restrain yourself, Mr. Malfoy!" the Head shouted, beating his wand on the corner of the desk in an attempt to regain order.

And I noticed the bailiff had drawn his wand.

Pucey finally managed to throw me back into my seat, and with fuming puffs of breath, I visualized shattering every bone in Zabini's body.

I knew what he was doing.

He was getting back at me for denying him a chance at Jamie.

He wanted to hurt her. He wanted her. _Period._

"Do you have any proof of this?" the Head requested.

Blaise tried to look regretful. "I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for it."

"Is there anything else?"

He shook his head.

"Very well. You're dismissed."

The Head cleared his throat, turning to face me and straightening his glasses again. "The court will deliberate. Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, you have heard the crimes of Mr. Draco Caelum Morpheus Malfoy..." he seemed to roll his eyes at my name, and my lip curled.

"All those in favor of conviction, raise-"

"Sir?" the bailiff suddenly leaned forward, tapping the Head on the shoulder.

Confused, the Head swiveled around, and though the two spoke in hushed tones, I heard every word.

"We have one more witness," the bailiff said.

"No..." the Head shook his head dismissively, "that's not possible. I have the list right here. We've seen all witnesses."

The bailiff scratched his temple with a grimace, "I think you'll have to make a little room for this one, Sir."

Raising that aged brow again, the Head gave him a disdainful look. "And just _why_ exactly is that?"

The bailiff responded gruffly, "Well, because it's the victim, Sir."

The breath left my lungs.

Jamie? Jamie was here?

Jamie.

Jamie.

_Jamie._

Her name filled my head like a tsunami, blurring my rational thought and driving me to my feet again. Only, Pucey did nothing to stop me this time. He was just as shocked as I was.

Hell, most of the Wizengamot had gasped as well, including the Head.

"Good god man! Let her in, for god's sake!" He ushered the bailiff toward the door. The guard pulled the door wide, revealing the slim, curving shadow...

And I couldn't think straight. I couldn't breathe.

Because she was here...

Somehow, she'd found the strength to come all this way to condemn me.

The thought made my stomach churn.

God, how she must've _hated_ me...

Her shadow passed into the light, illuminating her weakened form, strongly bandaged around the middle, her beautiful face bloodless and pale.

"_Jamie..."_ I breathed.

"Please state your name..." the bailiff muttered with some discomfort.

"Jamie Cutler," she said, and her voice was so soft it made my breath hitch.

"Do you swear to-"

"Leave it." The Head waved the bailiff away, gesturing for Jamie to have a seat. And I noticed how gingerly she did so.

All my muscles had tensed, and I was frozen in place, standing below her like the most desperate of men.

Like Arcon.

"Miss Cutler, you should be resting.._.healing,"_ the Head implored, and even though he shot me a vicious look when he said it, I couldn't help but agree with him.

"I'll be fine," she said. "I've come to testify."

He nodded knowingly, reaching for his quill to write something down. "On the plaintiff side, of course-"

"_No," _she said abruptly. "No..."

He paused. "I...don't quite follow you, my dear."

I watched her throat constrict as she swallowed with difficulty, but she managed to look me in the eyes as she said it. "I wish to testify on behalf of Mr. Malfoy."

The room went deathly still.

* * *

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	16. It Makes Perfect Sense

**Okay, there'll be another one up later today, so no worries :) Listen to:**

**Fine Again - Seether **

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_**Chapter Fifteen**_

_**It Makes Perfect Sense**_

The Head tried to properly clear his throat several times over, staring wide-eyed at his new witness.

"You...you-_what?" _he spluttered, shortly before removing his glasses and setting them down. "My dear, I think you're a little bit confu-"

"I'm not confused," she stated calmly, folding her hands in her lap. "I wish to testify on behalf of Mr. Malfoy. On behalf meaning _in favor of. For. _I want to defend him, Sir."

"But-but..." he stuttered, and had the situation not been so bad, I might've laughed at such a high-up man losing his composure in such a way. "This is_ most_ irregular."

"I have every right to do it," she said. "I am your most reliable witness."

And with that, the Head fell silent, unable to form any further protests. He was still staring at her like a fish, though...as were the majority of the Wizengamot.

"Right, then," he said finally. "We'll proceed."

Jamie seemed to steel herself, going tense all over as if preparing for a blow.

"As you probably heard, some rather _disturbing _evidence was brought to our attention by a Mr. Blaise Zabini," the Head continued. "Are you aware of his claim?"

"I am."

"What have you to say for it?"

"Only that he named the wrong offender." Jamie's eyes flickered to mine where I stood, and in that brief moment, I tried to convey all my emotion into the gaze. All my confusion...shock..._gratitude._

But she looked away all too soon.

"Someone _did_ threaten you, then?" a member of the assembly asked.

"Yes," and then Jamie pointed to the door from whence she came. "You just met him, actually."

Another round of gasps echoed through the hall, and I could only shake my head in disbelief, seeing her as nothing less than an angel on earth.

Why was she doing this? _Why? _

"You're saying it was Mr. Zabini?" the Head demanded.

"I am."

"What proof do you have of this?"

She shot him a suddenly furious glare, and even from my distance, I could see her knuckles whiten. "What proof did Zabini have? Other than _'take my word for it'_?"

"He had the benefit of the doubt, Miss Cutler."

She scoffed. "If you don't mind, Sir, I'd like to think that I'm the most important witness you have here this afternoon. Are you going to discard all of my evidence, because Malfoy doesn't have the _benefit of the doubt?" _

The Head was forced to clear his throat again. "No...no, of course not, Miss Cutler. I merely state that-"

"Please, Sir..." she urged. "May we continue? I am in much pain."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to take deep, steady breaths.

_Fuck, Jamie...if I could take it back..._

"Yes, of course," the Head replied swiftly, straightening his spectacles. "Please, Miss Cutler, enlighten us of the events that transpired upon last Thursday evening..."

"Well, you see Sir, this was only a day or two after I received Mr. Zabini's threat. I never meant to tell Mal-Draco-but he was round the corner only moments after Blaise was done with me."

"Go on..."

"It came right out, Sir. As you can see, I'm not exactly the strongest of girls-"

_Lie._

I nearly laughed, in fact, hiding a smile behind the hand I'd pressed to my face.

"And Mal-Draco-" she corrected herself again, an ounce of frustration peeking from her voice, "is...well, he's so _big_, Sir. I craved his protection."

I tried to swallow down the male pride that swelled within me at her evaluation.

_She's still lying, Draco. Don't be a fool._

But I _was_ big. I knew that much...and I couldn't help but feel that my ego had just received a good stroking.

"Protection?" asked a member of the Wizengamot.

"Yes. I've known Draco since my younger years...and I trust him."

I shot her a sharp, quizzical look-one that I imagine contained more than its share of warning. She shouldn't say so many things she didn't mean.

She wasn't lying about our history, though. I'd known her before Hogwarts. The Cutlers were a well-known, Pureblood family.

Just not as well known as ours.

But her parents had passed away years ago. If I was correct, she lived with her second cousin Michael now...a man who seemed to care less about her.

"Why didn't you simply report the threat to your school authorities?" asked another.

_Valid point..._

"I _don't _trust them," she snapped. I couldn't help my brows from rising.

That sounded as if it might be true.

"Interesting..." the Head mused, scribbling it down. I wanted to growl at him.

"Draco promised to protect me, which you'd have heard if you'd allowed him to make a statement," she added sharply, eyes tightening at the judge. The level of discomfort she could stir in him was very alarming...

"This is all well and good, but you've yet to explain your injuries. We have no less than fifty witnesses to your mutilation, Miss Cutler."

"And I can guarantee that none of them know the truth."

"Pray tell, what is the truth then?"

"Draco's spell-the one that did this to me..." she gestured to her flattened, bandaged chest. I glanced away.

"I made him swear to do it, before I even told him what it was. I tricked him, Sir. And Malfoys are honor bound. I'm sure you know that he would never go back on his word."

I sucked in a breath.

"I forced him, in an attempt to make me less desirable to Zabini. It backfired."

_Backfired._

My parents took a step forward, looking hopeful-even, dare I say, _proud. _

Fuck, this was bizarre...

"But...that doesn't make sense-" the Head started.

"It makes perfect sense," she pressed. "And I am ashamed that my actions have brought him here."

My jaw literally dropped, and Pucey stared dumbstruck at her. He'd probably realized he was getting paid for doing absolutely nothing at this point, and the thought likely tickled him pink.

After Jamie's statement, the trial had nowhere to go. There was nothing else to be said.

Jamie sat silently in the witness's chair, watching carefully as the Head called the court to deliberate.

"Based on the evidence that has been provided here today, we shall now take a vote. If Mr. Malfoy is found guilty, his sentence is as follows: An expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be required, a sum of 20,000 galleons will be taxed for the damages to Miss Cutler and school property, and a two-year sentence of civil service in the Department of Magical Safety will be enforced. Are there any who disagree with this charge?"

No one could raise their hand. It was perfectly fair, had the true story been issued this day. And even now, I felt as if I deserved it.

My father clutched my mother's hand tightly.

"Very well. If Mr. Malfoy is found innocent, he shall be cleared of all charges, and this assembly will be dismissed. Are there any that disagree with this conclusion?"

No one.

"Very well. All those in favor of guilty..."

I was rather surprised by the amount of hands that were raised, though I shouldn't have been. Almost every wizard in the world wanted to pin a Malfoy with something. Still, it didn't matter because it wasn't nearly enough.

Those in the assembly who were moral-based couldn't ignore the evidence that Jamie had provided. And when the Head called for the opposite charge, at least three fourths of the assembly rose their hands.

I was innocent.

In physicality, but not in mind.

* * *

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	17. Say My Name

**Okay...I'm finally giving you guys a little steaminess. WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT. Listen to:**

**The Clincher - Chevelle (SOOOO HOT! JUST REPEAT AND REPEAT AND REPEAT!)**

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_**Chapter Sixteen**_

_**Say My Name**_

My mother released a small sound of relief, her face illuminated by a pleased smile, and my father nodded approvingly.

"Very well. I now declare Mr. Draco Malfoy...cleared of all charges..." and it was impossible to miss the disappointment in his eyes as he slammed his wand upon the desk with finality.

Pucey gave my shoulder several congratulatory smacks and held out his hand for a shake. But I couldn't be concerned with him.

Taking his hand distractedly, I gave it a weary jerk and rose from my seat, eyes never leaving Jamie as she stood on the witness stand, gathering her skirts.

"Jamie..."

The mass of people started to disperse, getting in the way of my view when our eyes locked for the briefest of seconds.

And then my parents were in front of me, like a massive shadow, my mother taking me into her arms and murmuring words of comfort and joy.

My father gripped my arm tightly, announcing, "I knew the truth all along. The nerve of these people astounds me!"

Nodding offhandedly, I quickly extricated myself from my mother's hold.

"Yes...thank you. I know. I know, I know. I have to go. I'm sorry-I have to-"

I was already weaving away form them, curving my body around the many others surrounding and ignoring their confused stares which followed me out.

It felt like it took ages to get onto the streets of London, the fresh air blasting against me like a healing salve.

I searched for Jamie, already knowing I wouldn't find her in the army of Muggles on their way home from work.

But the sun was setting, and I was determined to find an alley to apparate in-determined to reach Jamie before she could lock herself away in the girl's dormitory.

There were things that needed to be said.

Things that needed to be...done.

Having to travel several blocks to find a clear space, and receiving several strange looks at his urgency along the way, I finally discovered a dark, rundown alley that was decorated rather crassly with graffiti.

I wasted no time, instantly apparating to the Hogwarts grounds, just outside the barrier. The dizziness wore off quickly, and I stumbled only a few steps as I started up the long hill toward the bridge.

There she was...only about a hundred yards ahead of me, marching up the steep terrain with her arms crossed over her stomach to guard against the cold.

Thank Salazar it hadn't snowed yet...

It was dusk, and I could only vaguely see her outline turn toward me as I called her name into the darkness.

Then she started to run.

Bolting across the grounds, she reached the bridge well before I did, even as I sprinted after her.

"Jamie! Jesus, _stop!" _

I could only hear the last of her footsteps echo on the bridge's wood when I started across it. My long stride may've worked in my favor, but I wasn't catching her anytime soon.

She covered the distance of the courtyard in seconds, bursting through the front doors without looking back again, and I dashed after her desperately.

_No._ She wasn't going to pretend this hadn't happened.

I wouldn't allow it.

Jamie paused for a split second in the main hallway, and I thought she'd go for the stairs...

But no-she went for the Great Hall, swinging open the gold doors and rushing inside.

I followed.

I was so used to seeing the dining hall empty at this point, having been forced to eat there alone for the past week, but it was strange with Jamie there.

Her footfalls resonated off the marble walls as she fled to one side of the room, vaulting herself over the Ravenclaw table to create a barrier between the two of us.

"What are you doing?" I called softly, afraid of drawing attention to us. She finally faced me, pressing her hands to the tabletop and panting lightly. And her flushed beauty shocked me for a moment.

"What are you _doing?"_ I repeated, taking a few more cautious steps into the room.

"Leave me alone," she demanded, trying to steady her breathing.

I moved toward the table, and she backed up warily.

"I can't," I murmured, raising my hands in mock surrender.

She scowled. "It's really quite simple, Malfoy. You turn around...and you walk out that door...and you don't stop walking until your all the way back in your dormitory."

I shook my head at her. "You expect me to walk away from what you just did? Reap what you sow, Jamie..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she spat.

"You have my attention now. It's not going away."

"Leave me alone!" she cried, pressing a hand to her forehead. But when I took the next step toward her, she bolted again, dodging me and slipping out of the Great Hall once more.

"Fucking hell," I breathed, starting after her again.

She seemed to be avoiding the stairs at all costs, knowing they could slow her down by tiring her or changing.

Instead, she ran through the first floor corridor, not even seeming to consider the dungeons.

We were both wandless, so there was no help we'd be receiving there, but I was gaining on her quickly, biting at her heels...

And she began to panic.

And in her panic, she reached for the first door she found.

And the first door she found was locked.

I collided with her, arms shooting out to wrap around her waist and drag her back against me. She kicked and shouted, fingernails scratching, head thrashing, but I held on tight, towing her across the hall and testing each doorknob with my elbow.

Finally, one clicked open, and I threw her inside, quick to close and lock it behind me.

Jamie was furious, fingers tangled in her mussed up mane of blonde curls as she backed away from me. Her back slammed into one of the empty classroom's desks, and a dirty curse fell from her lips.

She knew she was trapped.

She knew I had her.

"Why are you running from me...?" I whispered gently.

All I got in response was a hiss of breath she blew out from between her teeth.

"Jamie..."

"You got what you wanted. You're innocent," she said quietly, eventually seeming to gather the courage to turn her back on me and lean on the desk in her weariness.

"I want to know why."

"You know why," she said forcefully.

I approached her, nice and slow, grateful that she didn't flinch away when she felt my heat against her back.

She was giving up.

Giving in.

I rested my hands on either side of hers on the desk, caging her in and leaning down to whisper in her ear, _"Tell me..."_

She shivered, gritting her teeth. "Because I want to fight. And if there's no you...there's no chance of that."

"That's a stupid reason..." I purred, hoping I was driving her as crazy as she was driving me. "Tell me another."

"T-That's the reason, Malfoy. Take-take it, or leave it..."

"You called me Draco before," I murmured, brushing my nose against the exposed flesh on her shoulder.

She tried to lower her shoulders, tried to shy away, but it was impossible with our proximity. In doing so, she knew she'd have to push back against my body. Have to feel me against her completely.

"I'll never say it again," she sniffed pettily, turning her head away from the shoulder I was harassing with warm, tantalizing breaths.

Slowly-as slowly as hot molasses dripping from a bottleneck-I pulled my hands from the table and settled them on her hips, pressing downwards ever so slightly. "Say it now."

"You're shameless," she breathed, resisting my hold with far less fervor than she probably hoped.

"_Perhaps..."_

And then finally-_finally_-I let my lips feel her.

My mouth touched down on the side of her throat with wanton agony, opening wide in an instant to suckle the skin.

A great, shuddering inhale sounded in my ear...and I could feel her start to shake.

Convinced I was on the right track, I unleashed my tongue, laving it across the smooth, tang-flavored flesh. Jamie shivered again, forcing herself to swallow a squeaking sound, but I heard it lodge in her throat.

Humming...letting her feel the vibration...I moved my mouth up the side of her neck, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot beneath her ear, where her jaw began its long, beautiful stretch.

Then I flicked the skin with the tip of my tongue, licking up the backside of her ear as if I were tracing it.

She couldn't help it.

She whimpered for me.

"Jamie?" I asked-a quiet rumble against her ear...and she froze. "I'm going to do things to you..."

She gasped.

"Right now..."

Her trembling body bucked unconsciously against mine.

"In this room..."

And I had the luxury of watching her bite her lip to suppress a moan, eyes squeezing shut.

"And you're going to have to let me." It was a statement, not a question. I'd had enough of lusting after her.

I was going to show her exactly what I'd been thinking, all those times we'd locked eyes in the common room...shared a heated glance...

"No..." she whispered feebly.

"_Sa, praughs ela-oh..." Yes, proud female..._

Fuck, I must've been completely out of control for the Parseltongue to start seeping through...

Jamie's forbidden moan forced its way out when she heard it, and I watched her fingernails dig into the table's soft wood.

My cock instantly hardened at the sound, pressed uncomfortably against the fabric of my pants. And I decided I wanted her to feel it.

Swiftly, I flipped up the back of her skirt with one hand and pressed my pelvis against her rear, rubbing my covered erection into the crevice between her legs.

Jamie's gasp was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. A keening, mewling little sound like a swan's dying breath.

"_Asuna..." _I hissed. _Wet..._

I could feel the dampness of her arousal seeping through my slacks...could smell its crazing, musky scent in the air as I inhaled deeply.

It didn't matter that she couldn't understand me...so long as the sound of my voice turned her on.

And by Salazar, did it.

She was practically soaking...

I enveloped her entire ear with my warm mouth, sucking hard and feeling her body jerk in surprise and stimulation.

"Say my name, Jamie..." I murmured huskily around her flesh, my English voice returning. "Tell me you'll let me lick the sweat from your skin..."

Oh, she liked that one...

Her sex dripped against mine as several broken gasps slipped from her lips in quick succession.

"Let me suck on your tongue..." I whispered, nibbling on her soft earlobe.

She pressed her body back against mine, craving it but still fighting against herself at the same time.

"Let me touch you..." and I gently took her right hand from the desk, pressing it to her hip and then sliding it with a torturous pace beneath the waistband of her skirt to rest against her wet, pulsing core, covered only by the thinnest of layers of cloth, _"here." _

She combined a whimper, a gasp and a moan all in one, trying not to but failing miserably when she lifted her hips against her own hand, rubbing against herself.

Intertwining our fingers, I acted as the puppeteer, and helped her to fondle herself, guiding her fingers up and down over the fabric between her folds. All the while, my mouth was making its descent over the line of her jaw, sucking and nipping and licking without relent.

"You're going to think of me when you touch yourself now..." I growled, nuzzling my cheek against hers. "Maybe you already do..."

She mewled softly.

"Is this a wet dream of yours, Jamie? Have you gotten yourself off to this...? Thinking of me? Touching you like this?" And then I brushed her hand away, dipping my own beneath the fabric of her underwear to cup her naked sex.

My cock tripled in size, if that was even possible, stabbing into her lower back with a vengeance.

Jamie actually squealed-a sound I never thought I'd hear from her lips.

"_Oh my god..." _she breathed. They were the first words she'd uttered in pleasure, and it infuriated me that they weren't a cry of my name...as I'd demanded of her.

As punishment, I spent the next ten minutes torturing her clitoris, flicking it roughly with my fingers but never granting her release...never even going _near_ her entrance, just to make her beg for it.

But when she didn't give in...and I simply couldn't take it anymore...I released a roar of fury and buried three fingers deep inside of her. A brutal and merciless introduction.

Regardless, Jamie's scream would always be a scream of absolute ecstasy, not of pain.

She came around my fingers like a wildfire attacking pine needles, jerking and quivering as I bobbed her up and down, more than once lifting her light body off the ground with the strength of my hand alone.

I groaned at the feel of her walls tightening, leaning down to bite gently on her shoulder, holding to my vow and licking the warm, salty sweat from her skin.

It was then-_-finally_-that she touched me on her own, left arm swinging over her head to curl around the back of my neck and drag me closer. She gyrated her hips against mine, sliding my barely restrained cock between her legs.

It felt like iron.

Like it could never get any harder.

And then, thank every fucking deity I'd ever worshipped in my lifetime, she turned her body around, wrenching my hand out of her with the swift motion.

Our eyes locked, half-crazed and misty with lust, just before we collided.

And I saw everything in that once glance.

All her fear of me...all her desire...all her forbidden emotions and timidness.

_I saw it all. _

But then our mouths crashed against one another, teeth clashing and lips merely getting in the way of our aching, _needing_ tongues. She sucked mine into her mouth like a viper would, teeth scraping against it as she moaned down my throat.

Her hands kneaded my chest, sliding up over the smooth cloth of my suit to reach for my silver tie and she yanked at the knot forcefully, ripped it out from around my neck as soon as it was free.

Then she was throwing my jacket off my shoulders...unbuttoning my shirt with an urgency I so admired...

"Fuck," I gasped between kisses. "Fuck, baby-_please_..."

Desperately, I grasped for her hand, panting with need as I reached down and pressed it to my crotch.

She gasped, her already flushed cheeks darkened to a deep scarlet.

"_Slofffe..." _I whispered as her fingers went for the zipper.

_Drink..._

* * *

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	18. Molested?

**Sorry it's been a while. I've had a lot going on lately. But I'm up and running, and this baby's still on track, so...here we go :) Listen to:**

**My Darling - Eminem (Good one :) )**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

_**Molested?**_

I don't know what happened.

One minute she was there, rubbing herself all over me and beckoning me with those eyes lit on fire, then the next...

The next she gave a quick jerk, as if her soul had just flown back into her body-and she woke from the blissful haze, panic spreading across her face. Her hand was still on my zipper and my mind was still clouded with lust.

But Jamie's head was clear.

And it was over.

With a startled gasp, she wrenched her hand away, straightening her skirt urgently and dodging my outstretched arm.

"Jamie?" I breathed, confused.

Her voice trembled when she spoke, barely above a whisper, "Why did you do that?" And the sense of rejection-of failure-kicked me hard in the gut as she began to back away, looking frightened of me once more. _"Why?" _

"Jamie, baby-"

"_Shut up!" _she shouted, the harsh volume of it ringing in my ears, forcing the calm, sensual aura from the room. "I'm no one's _baby,"_ she spat. "Least of all yours."

Ignoring the sting of her words, I took a step toward her, half expecting her to run like before. But what she did was far worse.

She rose her fists.

The lust within me evaporated, the tension in my hardened member easing considerably, and all the intense sensations of a moment ago morphed into white hot, primal rage.

"Are you-" I started, shocked by the malice in my own voice, "are you fucking_ insane!?" _

She flinched, but made no other movement.

"A goddamn_ bipolar_, or something!? What the _fuck-" _

"Don't you_ dare_ try to pin this on me, Malfoy! This was all you! If you weren't so ruled by that fucking second head of yours, you wouldn't-"

"Oh, _that's_ what you think this is!? Some kind of fucking hormonal issue!? Well, ha-ha babe-I don't know if you've noticed, but you're _soaked through_ for me!"

Her eyes widened with fury, a crazed look appearing on her face, and she moved closer, fists tightening. "You molested me!"

"_MOLESTED!?" _ I roared.

Then I was coming at her, blinded by my anger as I clapped a hand over the lame first punch she threw and gripped her roughly by the arms. Shoving her into the brick wall, I took her wrists in one solid hold and slammed them up above her head, getting right in her face. It's times like these that something truly disgusting and Slytherin decides to come out of your mouth.

"Bitch, you practically begged me to _lick your cunt." _

Horrified, her jaw dropped open, and I took it as ample opportunity to thrust my tongue inside, forcing her into a brutal, bruising kiss.

She struggled, shaking her head and releasing pained little screams into my mouth that slowly ate at my insides...because I'd promised myself I'd never hurt her again.

_Don't be like Arcon..._

It was that thought that made me yank myself away from her, and when I freed her wrists, the regret didn't even have time to register on my face.

The back of her hand cracked across my cheekbone like a whip, so forcefully that my head swung to the side. But it was like I didn't even feel it. I was too distracted by the realization-the magnitude-of what I'd just done.

I was becoming exactly what I swore I'd never be.

After all those years, confined to my room in the manor, listening to the horrible little cries of my mother as my father unleashed a beating on her for something terribly insubstantial. Like dropping a glass...or saying the wrong thing...

I'd sworn I'd never be an abuser.

Never be a wife beater...

And look at me now.

A massive, beastly seducer, trying to ruin a girl's life.

Selfish. Sick.

So I backed away...and let her go.

She was gone once I'd blinked, and all that proved she'd ever even been there was the lingering sting of her slap and the light patter of her feet outside in the hall, both growing more and more faint with every second.

For a long while, I let the silence swallow me, standing there frozen in the corner of the old classroom.

And then I simply couldn't take it any longer.

With a roar, I slammed my fist into the brick wall with all the fury I possessed...and I heard, rather than felt, all my fingers break. A series of loud, very distinct snaps.

Bloody fantastic.

The pain registered shortly afterward, but I bitterly ignored it, clenching my ruined hand into a brutal fist and gritting my teeth.

_Your fault._

_All your fault._

I could hardly believe that not five minutes ago, I'd been asking Jamie Cutler for a fucking blow job. It all just seemed too surreal.

As I strode quickly from the room that was sure to house the worst of my memories for the rest of the year, I made the mistake of glancing down at my right fist.

Swollen to deepest hell, the skin over the knuckles split and bleeding, it looked like I'd run it through one of those Muggle contraptions in their sinks. What do they call them? Garbage disposals?

Doesn't matter.

It was broken and so was my brief connection with her.

One I was _sure _I'd never get back, no matter what I tried.

That is, until a particularly strange and massively complicated idea echoed inside my head as I trudged down the stairs toward the dungeons.

I don't know why, but ideas always seem to hit me while I'm walking down stairs.

My eyes widened a little at my own lopsided brilliance, and before I knew it, I was racing back to the common room, cradling my hand to my chest.

The password jumped from my lips, and I was in, pausing momentarily in front of the six leather couches while my fellow Slytherins stared at me in confusion, and then my eyes found Theo, standing off in the corner, nursing a Tainted Butterbeer, as we called it.

Jamie was already in her dormitory.

And Blaise was gone-which was a bloody good call on his part, because I don't care how good the idea was or how much my hand throbbed...I still would've beaten the blood out of that bastard.

Ignoring the round of questions coming from behind me concerning the trial, I marched up to Nott and took him by the arm, muttering a quick, "We need to talk. _Now."_

* * *

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	19. Dead Serious

**So sorry for the long wait, my friends! I've had a lot on my mind lately! Hope you're still with me :) Listen to:**

**Back Where We Belong - Josh Krajcik **

**Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

_**Dead Serious**_

"Come again?"

"You heard me."

Nott's mouth was slightly agape, eyes wide with disbelief and brow quirked in such a fashion that I knew he thought I'd gone mad. "No, yeah-I _heard_ you," he said. "I just don't think you meant to say what you did."

"Every word."

"You can't be serious!" He shot to a standing position, beginning at once a furious pace across the dormitory floor.

"I'm dead serious." My voice remained flat and highly controlled, as it had for most of the conversation. Though it wasn't really a _conversation_, so much as a sort of plea.

Theo gave up on pacing, dragging his hands down his face and smearing his features for a moment before coming to kneel in front of me. "Drake...mate, I'd die for you. You know that. But this...this is just ridiculous!"

"It's a lot less than dying for me," I snapped. "It should be easy. And besides, I've heard you moaning in your sleep...and it can't be about anyone but Jamie."

A bright scarlet flush fanned out across his face and down his neck, and he instantly dropped eye contact with me.

I sighed. "Theo...it's alright if you fancy her. That might even help a great deal. I just...I don't trust myself with her. I could seriously injure her..."

Nott's lips curled up in a halfhearted smirk. "Already done that, mate."

I made an exasperated noise, "Not with my bare hands, I haven't."

His eyes shot to me, wide with disbelief, "You didn't..."

"No. No, no..." I said quickly. "No, I just scared her. But that's the point."

"What?" He got off his knees, standing before me.

"I can sense it. With her. Some bloke's roughed her up and she's all fucked up because of it. I just...I want her to feel safe with a man...and then I can try again. But if she looks like she's better off with you..." a long, deep exhale blew out of me, "then so be it."

"You don't mean that."

I propped my head up to glare at him, "Is it so hard to believe that I'm not being selfish? That I care about someone?"

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "No, mate. It's hard to believe that it's _her." _

"Why?"

"Because you two barely know each other-yeah, I know your families are familiar, but come on! It's not as if you're _friends." _

"I know..." I sunk my head into my hands for what felt like the fiftieth time. "I know. I know. I...fuck, mate-I think I've gone completely mad. I feel like a fucking _Veela,_ for fuck's sake! Claiming a human being after a couple glances!"

Theo sighed this time, moving to sit beside me on the bed and knocking our shoulders together. "Listen to me...you're not as bad as all that. Alright? Just a little rough around the edges. It's just hard, because...well, because you've never really set your eye on anyone before. Not like this."

"It's different," I said. "I sound like a fucking pansy, but it's different."

He stared sideways at me for a long while...and then his shoulders seemed to slump as he gave in. "Alright mate. Fine. I'll do it for you."

Hope swelled up dangerously in my gut and I shot him a look of disbelief. He only shrugged.

"Still a bit confused as to _what_ I'm doing with her, exactly..."

"Charm her. I want you to make her feel cared for and safe. Show her that we're not all as rough around the edges as me." Theo rolled his eyes at that. "Kiss her. Touch her. Do whatever you have to do to make her feel...loved, you know? Do you see?"

"Yeah, yeah-I get it. But then, what after that? How does this benefit you at all?"

"Break it off. _Gently._ And then I'll give it some time before I come in and..."

"Sweep her off her feet?" he teased. I shoved him.

"What if she doesn't go for it at all? I'm not exactly Prince Charming here."

I gawked at him, incredulous. "Are you _mad?" _

"What?"

"Every girl south of...fucking _Wales_ has it bad for you! And you wonder why all the other blokes want to rip out your entrails!"

He wrinkled his nose. "Lovely." But a strange sort of flush had come over his face again.

"I'm only being honest."

"Well, you have an awful lot of confidence in this plan. All I can say is that I'll _try_. Hard."

A breath of relief left me then, and we stood at the same time. I offered him my arm and he gripped it tight, pulling in to slap me on the back a few times in the awkward, yet customary, man-embrace.

"Thanks, mate. I owe you one."

He scoffed, "You owe me_ several. _This is going to be plenty hard for me."

"Why?"

He shook it off, "Never mind. When should I start batting my eyelashes?"

I actually laughed a bit at that. "As soon as possible, I suppose. Just-I want to have my chance at her before the end of the year."

"Fuck's sake, mate, it won't take me _that_ long."

I raised my hands in surrender.

He moved toward the door of the dormitory, stopped only as he was halfway across the threshold. "Oh, and Drake?"

"Mm?"

"R & R? Are we still-?"

"Tomorrow night. Tell them we'll continue tomorrow night. Same time. Same place."

"Right. And...Jamie?"

"She wants in. The only reason she testified for me was because she wanted back in."

"And you're going to let her?"

"Have to." I shrugged.

"Mate..." Theo groaned. "I can't hit a girl."

"We were fine hitting James, weren't we? Maybe we can set that as a condition. She has to use the Glamour."

"But-"

"I don't want to hit her either, obviously! But it's not as if she can't hold her own!"

He heaved a heavy sigh. "This is mess. A great big fucking disaster..." And without another word, he left me to my own thoughts.

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